The Colors of Us
by ab2fsycho
Summary: When Pitch Black rescues Jack Frost from certain death, neither the winter spirit nor the other Guardians really know what to expect. As Jack and Pitch face a series of challenges in starting a relationship and are forced to band together against a common enemy, they realize the difficulties of being on opposite sides of the fence. (Takes place after the movie.)


Black and Blue

"Jack!"

He can hear them scream. Well . . . one of them. He thought it was Tooth who had screamed his name. He didn't know. All he knew was that the black arrow imbedded in his chest was releasing the black sand into his body. The same black sand that had killed Sandy once. Corrupting him. He was going to die.

He fell backwards, watching the Nightmares surround him and the other Guardians. They had gone from being a pest to being completely out of control when the Nightmare King had fallen victim to his own creations. Panic rose up in him past the pain as he watched them circling. They were what awaited him. They would be there as he fell into an eternal sleep brought on by the black sand poisoning him now.

They galloped in frantic circles as the Guardians fended them off. Yes, Tooth had been the one to scream. He knew this because she was the one hovering over him as the sand seeped into his muscles. He started to shiver, the smallest of cries escaping his lips. The sand was burning, the insidious particles taking him ever so slowly. He arched his back, straining against the molten specks sinking into every fiber of his being.

"Jack, no!" she screamed again. He couldn't see her. He could hardly hear her. He was slipping out of consciousness, screaming from the pain by the time a dark shadow fell over him.

Pitch was weak. He was just weak enough that the thought of having the Guardians help him reel the Nightmares back in had sounded like a good idea. Remind me never to let myself sink so low again, he had snarled to himself as he slowly built his strength back up. Having the Nightmares feed on someone else's fear and not his own for a change had helped a great deal. He was coming to his senses again when he heard the twit scream.

"Jack, no!"

Pitch spun about to glare at the idiotically colored bird, only to have his attention ripped from her lingering form and onto the black and blue body writhing beneath her. Black slithered across his pale body, consuming him. His screams were earsplitting as the sand closed in on his head.

Pitch was never really one for improvisation. Carefully laid plans were more his forte, and usually he considered the possible outcomes before forging ahead. He had even prepared for Jack Frost to deny his offer to join forces, though he hadn't anticipated just how much his refusal would sting him. However, what he found himself doing had not been part of one of his careful machinations.

He rushed over to Jack just as the twit almost placed her hands on the spot where the Nightmare had pierced him. "Don't touch!" he snapped, shoving her out of the way. She yelped as he positioned himself over the now whimpering boy. He was almost gone. The sand had just about corrupted Jack when Pitch grabbed his face and smashed his lips against the boy's. The contact chilled him, but at the same time started the transfer of black sand from Jack's body to his. The Nightmare sand would have killed Jack. It would only make Pitch stronger.

When the flow of Nightmare sand from Jack's body to Pitch's was steady, Pitch's lips left Jack's. He lingered just above the boy, the black sand swarming out of Jack's mouth into Pitch's. Pitch watched as the darkness left Jack's body, making the boy, if at all possible, paler than usual. The force of the transferal made Jack's back arch up into Pitch, his blue eyes rolling to the back of his head while his limbs lay stiff on the ground. Pitch watched Jack as the Nightmare sand fled the pale, beautiful body beneath him. And Pitch felt . . . odd . . . .

The more he absorbed, the more powerful he felt. The bottomless pit that had been his innards felt whole again as he felt his strength returning with the black sand. When his consumption ceased and Jack's body went limp beneath him, he stood up and cackled.

Shadows surrounded Pitch as his form grew taller and more menacing. His golden-silver eyes burned like white flames as a shark-like grin spread across his face. The whole lair fell dark under the influence of Pitch Black. Tooth gasped, the other Guardians ceasing their attack as the Nightmares cowered in the presence of their restored king. His laughing didn't stop. He continued until the black horses sank into his shadows, leaving the rest of the Guardians unharmed.

When the room was clear of the Nightmares, the lair returned to its normal gloom. However, the sinister undercurrents remained. The Guardians were still armed. Now that the uniting threat had disbanded, they recognized the danger they were in while in the lair of an almost fully restored Nightmare King.

But he did not attack. He sank back into his normal form without so much as a leer at them. The Guardians remained rooted in place as he bent over to pick up the unconscious Jack Frost. Cradling the boy to his chest, he brought him to the nearest Guardian, North.

The other Guardians stared in dismay as he handed Jack over to the Guardian of Wonder without argument. When Jack's body left his arms, Pitch merely said, "Leave." He disappeared into the shadows.

And the Guardians left, unsure of what exactly had just transpired.

Blue and Yellow

"Why?"

Why indeed? Why was there a winter spirit in Pitch's lair? More specifically, why was Jack Frost pestering him now?

Pitch stayed in the shadows, letting Jack's paranoia run wild. He had to admit that Jack's nervousness made him feel quite good. If only he could turn that feeling into fear. Then things would get very fun very fast.

"Pitch, I know you're here," the boy said, holding his crook close to his body as he searched the shadows with careful blue eyes.

"What do you want, Frost?" Pitch asked, still moving in the darkness without being detected. He smirked as the boy jumped at the sound of his voice.

"I want to know why you saved me," the young Guardian answered honestly.

"Such an ungrateful question," Pitch grumbled, throwing his voice across the room. Another delightful jump. This was definitely going to be fun if Jack kept reacting like this. "Shouldn't you just be happy I let you live?"

"I'm not sure which is creepier," the boy murmured. "You not showing your face, or you suggesting I be happy."

Pitch's laughter filled the room. Jack almost dropped his staff as he spun about looking for the source. This only made Pitch laugh more. "You always come to the most interesting conclusions about me."

"Stop playing with me—."

"Oh, but I thought you were the Guardian of Fun! Games are your thing, are they not?"

"Not your games. I don't want to play your games. I just want an answer." The boy collected himself just enough to continue searching the darkness. Something about what Jack said irritated Pitch. It could have been the obvious reminder that Jack had cruelly turned down Pitch's offer to join forces with him. How long has it been? A year? Maybe two. Pitch didn't care. The disappointment was still just as fresh as if it had been that morning.

Pitch threw his voice again, making it seem like he were right behind Jack. "You know the answer as well as I do." He spoke colder than before, which made Jack's hands start to shake as he turned about only to be faced with nothing. His startled expression was almost enough to drive away Pitch's irritation.

Almost. What Pitch really needed to make him feel better was Jack's fear, but it was becoming more and more frustrating to force it out of him. He already knew loneliness would elicit something in Jack. It had been a soft spot in the boy for centuries until the Guardians had helped him overcome it. Pitch wanted to find a new fear to tackle within the boy. However, he didn't want to reveal his location just yet, but getting personal may be the only way to get what Pitch wanted.

"Are you telling me you don't know why you saved me?" Anger. It looked so strange and yet so interesting on little Jack Frost's face. It wasn't quite as lovely as his fear, but it evoked something within Pitch. That odd feeling again, he thought to himself. He remembered how draining the black sand from Jack's body had brought that feeling on for the first time. What was it? The lack of knowledge succeeded in frustrating him further.

"What if I did know?" Pitch didn't know. "Why would I have to tell you anyway?" Nosy little brat.

"It's my life!" Jack shouted, his anger rising. For some reason, Pitch was beginning to find this rage quite entertaining. At the same time, he was also growing incredibly annoyed with Jack's behavior.

Then something dawned on him. "Are you sure you just don't want to owe me anything?"

"I don't owe you a damn thing." He wasn't getting startled at Pitch's shadow tricks anymore.

"Oh, of course not. Just your life." Sarcasm seeped from Pitch's words.

"I didn't ask for you to save me." Such an indignant attitude was only good for getting the boy killed. Jack didn't seem to realize that.

"Technically, I didn't ask for any of you to help restore my control, but things were getting out of hand and I was grateful. Grateful enough to let you all walk out alive. You should take note." Pitch grimaced as Jack shot a bolt of ice in his general direction. His location remained concealed, but that had been entirely too close for comfort.

"Why did you do it?!"

"This conversation is getting redundant. And a tantrum isn't going to make me give you an answer any faster." Pitch's irritation sprouted full force this time. The boy was really testing his luck with the Nightmare King.

"I'm not leaving without an answer," Jack said, shooting another ice bolt across the room.

Pitch growled. "My patience is at an end, Frost. Leave now before I show you what a nightmare can really do," Pitch warned, his voice completely surrounding Jack. "Your Guardian friends were smart enough to listen to me the last time I told them to leave. You'd do better to follow their example."

The winter spirit was unabashed. "Don't hold out on me, now. Face me, Boogeyman!"

Oh, Pitch was more than pleased to grant him his foolish wish.

As soon as the words left Jack's lips, he regretted them. Before he could turn around, his crook was yanked out of his hands and thrown into the shadows below the walkway he was on.

"NO!" He fell to his knees, searching the seemingly bottomless pit of darkness for his staff. He saw nothing, knew it was no use. Panic rose up within him when he became aware of a long shadow looming over him. He couldn't get back on his feet; his whole body was shaking entirely too much and Pitch was just too damn close. He kicked at the floor, pushing himself further from the Nightmare King. Those burning yellow eyes followed him, a row of fangs flashing as Pitch smirked down at him. Jack's breathing tripled, his heart bursting from the speed at which it was going. Pitch had always been tall, but he seemed like a giant now that Jack was on the ground.

Pitch chuckled as Jack continued to kick away from him. "I'm beginning to see your fear, Jack. Do continue to let it grow."

"Stay back!" Jack choked out.

"Oh, don't be like that Jack. Things are just getting fun again."

At that moment, Jack's back hit a wall. When the hell had that gotten there? Why hadn't he noticed it before? His attention flashed back from the wall to the towering figure before him. He caught himself before shouting as shadows rose up at Pitch's back, giving the impression that he was even taller than in reality. He wanted to run, scream, anything but beg him to stop. Somehow his pride was still functioning enough that he refused to beg for mercy even now. He tried to speak, "Pitch—."

That was when a hand lurched forward and clasped the collar of Jack's sweatshirt, dragging him up the wall so that his feet were dangling and he was at eye level with Pitch. "That's better," Pitch muttered. "Now I don't have to crane my neck to look at you."

Jack wasn't entirely sure he'd seen a more ominous glare directed at him. Coupled with a daggered smile, he was almost certain he was looking into the face of doom. Before he could say another word, he found himself pinned to the wall by . . . shadows. Shadows locked around his wrists, shoulders, ankles, and middle. He was pinned up on the wall like an insect on display. "No—," he was cut off by another shadow, which gagged him. His eyes widened, focusing on Pitch's face.

"Ah, there it is," Pitch whispered, barely audible. "Shame I had to resort to such physical means to bring out the fear in you. I do prefer to keep my hands clean. Literally, at least." His pride was gone. Jack screamed against the gag. He fought the bonds, but how does one fight something so intangible? Intangible, and yet he was bound. He squeezed his eyes shut, still screaming. "Don't be so melodramatic, Frost. I'm not even hurting you." Jack opened his eyes just enough to see the leer on Pitch's face. "I don't need to. These bonds are enough to drive you wild."

He struggled, screaming as yellow eyes bored into him. His throat felt raw by the time he realized that watching was all the Nightmare King intended to do. As soon as he realized that Pitch didn't intend to do anything other than that, his anger ignited. His blue, panicked eyes squinted, and he let loose a series of obscenities at Pitch that he was almost grateful for the gag to have drowned out. He began fighting harder against the binds, wanting nothing more than to tear that smug look off Pitch's face.

"Are you quite done?" Pitch asked, his expression almost bored. Jack's next row of curses made Pitch laugh. "Unfortunately, your fear was a lot tastier than this rage, and I suspect your language has grown quite vulgar by now." He turned his back on Jack, and just as the Guardian thought that he was going to be left strung up on the wall, the shadows released him and he collapsed on his hands and knees. He took just a brief moment to suck in a lungful of air through his mouth to reassure himself the gag was gone before digging his bare feet into the stone and launch himself into a sprint at Pitch. The Nightmare King was just about to disappear into the lair's shadows when he turned to see Jack crashing into him.

Both fell to the floor, Jack landing on top of Pitch. Grabbing Pitch's forearms and holding him down, Jack shouted, "Alright, you shit! You wanna talk about ungrateful, well you're in for a rude awakening. I was the one who suggested that we help you get your Nightmares back. I convinced the Guardians that your black dreamsand, the stuff that killed Sandy, the stuff that almost killed me, would be better off under your control than roaming free throughout the world. Without me, you would still be cowering under a bed!" In his anger, he'd started gesticulating, which meant that Pitch's arms were free. When Jack finished what had only been the beginning of his rant, he found that Pitch had flipped him onto his back and, in turn, pinned him to the ground. He wasn't shaking with fear. He hadn't been for what felt like some time now. He was shaking because he wanted to strangle Pitch for continually restraining him and denying him a say in the matter.

"And why, pray tell, were you compelled to help me? After what you've done? What made you think I wanted any of you to help me?" Pitch's voice was little more than a snarl, his long nose inches from Jack's.

"Because I—," he choked. "I—." Why couldn't he speak suddenly? "Godammit!"

"Cut the crudity and answer me!"

At that, Jack shut his mouth and returned Pitch's glare. After a brief time of silence, he whispered, "How does it feel having information withheld from you?" Pitch roared (at least, it sounded like a roar by Jack's standards) and dug his claws into Jack's arms before standing and stalking back towards the wall. Jack sat up, barely aware of the red marks and bruises forming where Pitch's talons had torn his skin. He just watched Pitch lean with his hand against the wall Jack had been pinned to mere moments ago. After another brief time of silence, Jack sighed and said, "I felt guilty."

Pitch scoffed. "For ruining me?"

"For not—," Jack couldn't say it. Why couldn't he say it? Because it felt like he would be renouncing his Guardianship, that's why. He sighed again. "For not accepting your friendship when I had the chance to." Pitch didn't look at him. He just leaned on the wall, his face unreadable. "Under different circumstances, we probably could've worked something out."

"You refused to be feared—."

"And I will always refuse. I don't thrive on fear, Pitch. But we could've—."

"What? Been friends?" Pitch finally looked at him, his sneer making Jack's blood boil again.

Jack stood, clenching his fists. "Let me make this clear again: I hate everything you stand for. I may even hate you. But when I actually stop and let myself think about it, I find that I really do feel guilty. I do regret not knowing you earlier. And godammit—!" Jack grabbed his head, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. When he looked back up, Pitch was watching him even more intently than before.

"Do continue," Pitch uttered. There was no smugness in his voice. There was no malice. And somehow, that made Jack angrier.

Jack took a few large steps to the Nightmare King, his mouth clenched into a sharp line as he withheld another angry shout. Pitch was unabashed by his approach until Jack grabbed his robes. Pitch glared, and before he could demand that the winter spirit unhand him, Pitch was rendered silent.

By Jack's lips on his.

Pale and Gray

Jack stepped back several steps once he realized what he'd done. Pitch stood stock still, staring at nothing it seemed. Jack wasn't quite sure if Pitch was totally in shock or if he was silently plotting some sort of revenge. He really hoped he was in shock, especially given Jack's more vulnerable state. Without his staff, Pitch could easily overpower Jack.

"Why did you do that?" Pitch finally asked, his eyes narrowing on Jack's face.

Jack may have gulped at the sight of that . . . almost a glare. It wasn't quite a glare yet. "I—." Jack just couldn't speak today. 'I' seemed to be the only word he knew. "I—."

"While your stuttering is rather compelling, I'd appreciate it if you told what just transpired here." Pitch was taking this entirely too calmly. Based on his voice alone, one would think this sort of thing happened every day. His facial expression read otherwise, however.

"I don't know," Jack finally said. He grumbled to himself, calling himself several different kinds of inaudible names as he grabbed his hair and crouched to the ground in panic. "Shit, what am I doing?" was the first audible thing he asked himself once he'd finished the string of 'idiot's, 'dumbass's, and other assorted names. At this point, he was actually certain that if Pitch didn't kill him, the Guardians would. Someone was going to kill him for that.

He almost jumped when Pitch placed a hand on Jack's shoulder. The Guardian looked up, but found that the Nightmare King was standing behind him. How had he moved there without Jack detecting him? "All those things you said. About regretting and guilt. Were you being serious?"

Jack's eyes met Pitch's. So unreadable. How could Pitch be so unreadable after what Jack had done? But Jack sighed, closed his eyes, and turned his face away. He wrapped his arms around his legs as he sat. "Yeah."

"You're . . . being honest?" Pitch asked.

Jack squinted up at him. "Are you just asking me the same question, but in a different way? Yeah, I was serious. Yeah, I'm being honest. Yeah, I kissed you—."

Jack gasped as Pitch suddenly lifted him off the ground and turned him around to face him. Before Jack could even ask, he was being kissed senseless. Every thought that had been gunning for attention in his mind completely and utterly disappeared then. He still had enough sense to wrap his arms around Pitch's neck, thankfully. The Boogeyman was just tall enough that if Jack fell, it would leave yet another set of bruises. Judging from the tight grip Pitch had on his waist, the likelihood of that happening was second to none.

Jack's skin was naturally cold, and Pitch's skin felt smoldering. The areas where Pitch was making contact with him were sweating. His lips felt like they were on fire. When Pitch's tongue invaded Jack's mouth, Jack whimpered in surprise at the heat. The whimper became a moan as Jack used his own tongue. He grunted in surprise when Pitch pressed him into the wall he'd been trapped against mere minutes before. This time, he wasn't panicking. In fact, he was feeling quite the opposite, which technically should have made him panic.

Because Jack Frost was wrapping his legs around the waist of and making out with the incredibly tall Pitch Black.

What am I doing? Pitch thought to himself for the briefest of moments. But then he was too wrapped up in the one person he was supposed to hate the most to put serious thought into the question. And that feeling. That feeling that keeps coming back at the strangest times was roaring inside him now. He couldn't get close enough to Jack. He was almost twice the Guardian's size and could probably hide the boy in his robes, and yet he still couldn't get enough of him. He couldn't feel enough of him.

Pitch reached under Jack's shirt with both hands, and the winter spirit tensed. Soon the boy melted into his touch, and Pitch let loose a growl at the coolness of Jack's skin. He dug his fingernails into Jack's sides, glad that he'd retracted his claws because Jack pulled back and unleashed a pleasant cry mixed with pain and pleasure. Jack leaned his head back just enough to expose his throat to Pitch, and the Nightmare King couldn't help but lean forward and seize that skin with his teeth. Jack cried out again, the cry turning into a light whimper as Pitch teased the skin with his tongue. He bit down, sure that he was going to leave a mark, just to hear that cry again.

Pitch looked back up at Jack to see him blushing. The red looked odd against the Guardian's pale cheeks. Before he could stop himself, Pitch was pulling Jack's shirt over the boy's head. The winter spirit lifted his arms to allow the removal, then wrapped them back around Pitch's neck when the sweatshirt was removed. When he tossed it to the side, he leaned in to nip Jack's lips. His attention was caught on just how much redder Jack's cheeks were since his top had been removed. "You've never done this before, have you?"

"Uh . . .," Jack's voice trailed off. "No?"

"No?" Pitch breathed against the boy's lips. Jack was trembling, absolutely trembling in Pitch's arms. Pitch crushed the boy closer to his chest, knowing full well the stone wall was biting into the skin of Jack's back.

"No, nothing like this," Jack answered, the slightest hint of nervousness in his tone.

A sly grin whipped across Pitch's face. He whispered against Jack's lips, "I suppose that makes me special."

"Don't give yourself too much of a boost, there, Boogeyman," Jack warned, but Pitch could hear the temptation, the desire for more in his tone. Jack's lids were entirely too heavy and his voice barely a whisper. Pitch's smile grew before he leaned in for another kiss. Jack moaned against his lips. Pitch ran a hand over Jack's cool chest, letting it roam over the skin of the boy's nipple. He teased it for just a moment, then went back to admiring the winter spirit's lovely pale skin. He admired the way Jack's body shuddered beneath his hands, growled softly at the way Jack whined when Pitch dragged his nails over the vulnerable skin of the boy's belly. When Pitch reached down to cup the hardness growing in Jack's crotch, the Guardian gasped while one of his hands gripped Pitch's shoulder tightly. "Pitch!" he cried before biting his lip.

"Your screams are so lovely. Don't bite your lip now," Pitch whispered in Jack's ear as his grip tightened ever so slightly. Jack moaned freely and loudly as Pitch ran his tongue over the boy's ear. Biting the neck just under the ear elicited an even more beautiful reaction from the Guardian. Jack Frost actually ground his hips into Pitch's hand.

"Pitch?" Jack groaned softly.

"Hm," the Nightmare King moaned against the boy's skin as he bit Jack yet again.

"Why are your clothes still on?"

Pitch smiled against the boy's neck. "For someone so inexperienced, you're quite eager."

"You're the one doing all the work. I was just—shit!" Jack cried out again as Pitch bit his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Pitch knew it was painful. He also knew that Jack liked it. He reveled at the feel of the boy digging his fingers into his back, holding onto Pitch for dear life as his legs tightened around the Boogeyman's waist.

With the hand that had been grasping Jack's groin, Pitch undid his robe and slid his arms out of it one at a time, switching off so that he was still holding Jack up. Although, he didn't think it was necessary. The boy was so wrapped around him that he had to untangle the robe from Jack about as much as he had to untangle it from himself. After the robe dropped to his feet, Pitch managed to flip Jack around so that he was pressing the boy's front into the wall instead of his back, angling his hips so that they were pressed against Jack's rather tight ass. That pressure and Pitch's hands were enough to hold the fairly light boy up against the wall. Jack splayed his hands on the wall, unsure of what to do with them now that he wasn't facing Pitch. Pitch could also feel the slightest panic within the boy because he really had no way of holding on and ensuring that he didn't fall. Pitch smirked, his hands sliding from Jack's hips, over his back, to the boy's forearms where he could hold them in place on the stone. Another wave of panic made Pitch gentle his grip on Jack's arms. The Nightmare King noted how the idea of being bound seemed to bother the winter spirit, and he didn't want him scared at this moment. Maybe later. For now, he leaned in to feel the chill of the boy's back, whispering into Jack's ear, "If I want you on the floor, I'll put you there. For now, I like having you against this wall."

Jack sighed and shuddered against him as Pitch spoke. Pitch's hot breath against the boy's neck was enough to bring out another shudder as a gray hand travelled the length of Jack's arm back down to a thin shoulder which had not yet been marked. Grasping the area where his palm had landed, Pitch raked his teeth over Jack's flesh, making the Guardian whimper and brace for the bite that was surely to follow. Oh, but Pitch wasn't going to bite him again just yet. Not while the boy was tense and prepared for it. The point before had been to distract Jack from talking. Now, Pitch was just teasing the boy. Though the Guardian clearly expected pain, Pitch gave him no such thing. Instead, he ran his mouth over the pale, cool skin, loving how his tongue numbed against the flesh of Jack Frost.

"Do I taste good to you or something?" Jack was trying to sound sarcastic, but was doing poorly since his voice was shaky and his shoulders were trembling under Pitch's lips.

"I haven't decided yet. I think I need to keep sampling," Pitch uttered against the back of Jack's neck. He continued his openmouthed assault on Jack's skin, moving over to where he had already bitten the boy. He sucked on the open wounds, the cool, metallic taste of Jack's blood stinging his tongue. Jack moaned again as Pitch lapped at his wound. Without warning, Pitch ground his hips against Jack's rump. The boy jumped, and Pitch knew that he was now even more aware of the bulge in Pitch's pants. Pitch certainly was. The thing was getting harder and harder to ignore the more he played with Jack. "No, the floor just won't do for this."

Pitch's hands circled around Jack's waist and shoulders as he disappeared into the shadows with him. In a flash, he had transported them to Pitch's bed. Jack was face down in the sheets, Pitch looming over top of him. Before he could sit up, Pitch was untying and removing Jack's pants. "Pitch, I've never—."

"I've gathered that much," the Nightmare King cut him off, admiring the returning flush in Jack's cheeks as the boy lay completely naked beneath him. Pitch leaned into the winter spirit, pressing his chest against the boy's small back as a hand reached to grasp Jack's throat ever so lightly. Jack gasped at the sensation, and Pitch took the opportunity to let two long fingers slide into Jack's mouth. "Now suck." Jack did as he was told, the inside of his mouth chilling Pitch's fingers. When Pitch felt that his fingers were nice and slick, he slipped them from Jack's mouth and inserted them into his ass. The boy buried his face in the sheets and cried out. "Oh no," Pitch murmured, his other hand lifting Jack's face out of the sheets by the throat and, in turn, pressing the boy even closer to Pitch's chest. "I want to hear every scream."

Pitch slid his fingers in and out, listening intently to the way Jack moaned and shouted. Sometimes the boy was even capable of forming coherent sentences as Pitch worked his fingers and widened the hole. Those moments were rare. They became even rarer when Pitch slid a third into Jack. The sound that Jack made upon that entry caused Pitch to grit his teeth. He wanted to bite the boy's shoulder again, further mark him as his. But he couldn't. He had to wait for the right moment. However, the notion that Jack belonged to him was almost enough to make him want to penetrate the boy right then and there. Again, he had to wait. Jack was already going to feel plenty of pain. So Pitch continued widening and stretching Jack's entrance, placing more openmouthed kisses on the boy's back as he slid his fingers in and out at a steady pace.

Finally, Pitch's patience wore thin. He removed his fingers, groaning at the sound of Jack's almost disappointed moan, then undid his pants to free his member. Pressing himself against Jack's entrance, he pushed in. Jack's scream was louder than any he had released before. It was also regrettably shorter, but he was still so tight that Pitch had to fight to keep himself from thrusting.

Jack shook harder against him, whimpering at the size of Pitch. "Fuck fuck fuck," he let out a string or curses as if it would help him adjust faster. His hands clenched into the sheets, his knuckles whitening more than Pitch had thought possible. "Pitch, it hurts!"

"Would you like a distraction?" The boy bit his lip, moaned, and nodded. Now that was what Pitch wanted to hear. He angled his head over Jack's unmarked shoulder and bit down on the pale skin.

"Pitch!" The sound of his name on the boy's quivering lips only made Pitch bite harder. He drank the boy's blood as it seeped into his mouth. When he was certain the boy could endure no more, Pitch relinquished his sharp teeth and relieved the open wounds with his tongue. Jack relaxed completely against Pitch, and the Nightmare King took that as the go ahead. He thrust gently at first, moving slowly just in case. Jack moaned, no longer expressing any sounds of pain. Pitch thrust faster, angling his hips in search of the boy's sweet spot. He knew he'd found it when Jack let out the loveliest series of cries yet.

"Mm," Pitch growled in Jack's ear. "You are absolutely gorgeous like this." He began thrusting harder then, hungry for more of Jack's beautiful sounds.

Then he stopped abruptly. It killed him to, but he pulled out anyway. "Pitch, what—fuck!" Jack's alarm at being flipped over to face the Nightmare King amused Pitch. Pitch ran his hands down Jack's body until they reached the boy's thighs. Jack made a surprised noise as Pitch lifted and spread his thighs wide enough for Pitch to regain entry. The Guardian cried out again as Pitch thrust into him harder and faster than before. Pitch groaned when Jack wrapped his arms around Pitch's neck and held on tight. Reaching down, Pitch took Jack's erection in his hand and pumped it in time with his thrusts. Jack bucked his hips into Pitch's hand, screaming now.

"That's it, Jack," Pitch said, leaning forward so that he was speaking into Jack's ear again. Before he knew what he was saying, Pitch whispered, "You're mine now."

He didn't count how many more thrusts and pumps it took, but he knew it hadn't taken many for the tension in his groin to release and his seed to spill inside of the young Guardian. Jack's orgasm followed soon after, the cold liquid spilling between them while some got onto Pitch's hand. He thought nothing of it. He was too busy stealing another kiss from the boy underneath him, who still clung to his neck.

Jack had fallen asleep in the arms of the Boogeyman. Of course, that was the least of his worries. His body still ached from their activities. He couldn't tell how long he'd slept, given that there was little to no light seeping into the lair. He'd been too tired to do anything let alone leave. He honestly didn't want to think about the ridicule that would surely await him once the other Guardians found out. There was no doubt in his mind that they would.

He opened his eyes, gathering his bearings. His forehead was resting on Pitch's shoulder. He was sweating everywhere Pitch was touching, and Pitch was large enough and clinging to enough of him that Jack wasn't entirely sure every inch of him wasn't in some form of contact with Pitch. The Nightmare King was fairly still save for a large, gray hand stroking Jack's white hair. It would take more effort than Jack was willing or able to make in order to crawl out of the full body embrace Pitch had tucked him into. He could at least meet the Boogeyman's silvery-yellow eyes. That much movement was allowed him.

"Have you just been watching me sleep, or did you go to sleep too?" Jack asked softly.

"I don't sleep very often."

"Then why do you have a bed?"

"Just in case I do actually need to sleep. We all sleep sometime."

"Sure we do. I'm surprised you didn't give me a bad dream or something."

"Only after the second quote unquote date."

"Haha." He actually did snort at that. Jack closed his eyes and sighed. His mind wandered for a while, then he came back to the topic that had started this whole mess. "You don't actually know what made you save me, do you?"

Pitch sighed, then answered, "No. But after what just transpired, I think we can overlook that little riddle."

Jack snorted again. "I guess. What does matter is how I'm gonna live through this."

"Surely the Guardians won't punish you for abating the Nightmare King's famous foul mood."

"You really do think I'm yours, now, don't you?" Jack looked up in time to see the smallest smile tug at Pitch's lips. Jack smirked back at him. "That's a silly question, isn't it?" Pitch's eyes flashed, and Jack could already tell the Boogeyman was planning something that may or may not be sinister. "I don't wanna know."

"You're assuming too much," Pitch muttered slyly.

"With you? There is no such thing as assuming too much."

"You're exaggerating now."

"Hm." Jack tried to sit up so that he could at least look Pitch in the face. The Nightmare King relinquished some of his hold on him to allow for this. It took some doing, and the aching wasn't so unpleasant. He met Pitch's gaze evenly. "You're really serious about this?"

Pitch gave him a caustic stare. "Do you think you'd be alive if I weren't?"

"Point taken. But . . . you want this?"

"Do you?"

Jack had only heard that much sadness in Pitch's voice when he had initially denied an allegiance between them. Oddly, it made Jack feel guiltier than he already did. "Yes. You know my limits. I somewhat know yours. As long as I don't get killed by the other Guardians, this could work out."

"Your willingness to trust me is truly baffling."

"Yeah, well, you were special enough to take my virginity." Pitch smiled at that comment. "Am I gonna see my staff again anytime soon?"

"Now where's the fun in me just giving it back to you?" The deviousness in Pitch's tone and facial expression returned.

Jack huffed at that, squinting at his new . . . partner? Bedmate? Fuck buddy? Mouth date? What would the two of them be called nowadays? Jack stopped thinking about it before he confused himself. "So much for trust."

"Oh, I'll procure it before you leave." Pitch pulled Jack into a possessive hug.

Jack couldn't help but smile at the rather uncharacteristic contact. "Okay, Nightmare King. When exactly am I allowed to leave?"

"Never." Jack chuckled, the chuckle turning into a nervous giggle. He only hoped Pitch wasn't being serious this time. "If the Guardians hurt you for this, I'll kill them."

"I believe you." For a brief moment, Jack focused on the contrast of his skin and Pitch's. Cold and dark. The two really did go together well. Jack wasn't quite sure he was ready to tell Pitch he was right. Now that would go to the Boogeyman's head faster than taking the winter spirit's virginity.

Leaving Marks

Jack wasn't expecting to find Pitch lurking around the Guardian's designated home by the lake where he'd drowned as a human. He mentally beat himself for expecting anything less. He kept his head tilted away from the emerging shadow.

"What is on your face?" Pitch asked, a suspicious look crossing his gray features.

"Nice to see you, too. What are you up to? The usual stalking?"

"Don't change the subject, Jack." Before Jack could react, Pitch had disappeared into the shadows and reappeared behind him. The winter spirit barely suppressed a shout and managed to keep his gasp short when Pitch grabbed his chin and used it to turn the boy around to face him. Pitch tilted Jack's head just enough to reveal the cut and bruise Jack had hoped to continue hiding for at least a little while. "Who did this to you?"

"It's nothing."

"What?!" God, Pitch actually sounded offended at Jack claiming his wound to be nothing.

"It's nothing to worry about, Pitch."

"I beg to differ. Someone has injured my face."

"Your face?" Jack raised an eyebrow at the Nightmare King, who responded with an even deeper grimace. The Guardian sighed. "I told the Guardians. About us. Most of them took it well. Well, they took it better than I expected. Except the kangaroo. I pretty much got the reaction I'd anticipated from him." Jack credited himself for making it seem like it'd gone better than it actually had. It had started off as a yelling fest, because somehow everyone had figured out that Jack was cavorting with their enemy. It had taken Sandy tipping over a shelf-full of toys to get their attention. He was the one who managed to convince the others that Jack hadn't betrayed them in any way. Jack still had to convince himself of that fact, though.

"So the rabbit is to blame." Pitch started to recede back into the shadows, but Jack caught him by the arm.

"Oh, no you don't. I knew it wasn't going to be an easy conversation, so don't just fly off and pick a fight with my friends."

"He hurt you."

"I've dealt with worse. This," he pointed to his face, "is nothing compared to some of the scraps I've been in." This only succeeded in deepening Pitch's already unpleasant facial expression. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"You look like you're plotting a revenge of some kind and that's not really necessary. Everything's fine."

Pitch's brow smoothed, but Jack could tell it was taking him an enormous amount of effort to make it seem like he was calming down. "Well, out with it. How did the conversation go? Post assault, that is."

"Sandy made the others calm down. He almost crushed me with a shelf, but he calmed the others—."

"Are you sure crushing you wasn't his intention?"

"Stop it. Yes, I'm sure. And he seemed to think that my . . . thing with you could be good. For both of us."

Pitch's brow furrowed again. "He said that?"

"Well, not quite. You know he doesn't talk—."

"What did he say exactly?"

"Exactly? No one knows, but—."

"Jack, what—?"

"Are you going to let me explain this?" Pitch glared at him, but remained silent. "Okay. He thought it would be a good idea because that way you might . . . calm down with the world domination and stuff. He thinks having a friend would calm you down."

Pitch closed his eyes, thinking for a brief time. "Oh, that's cute. What a novel idea! Gee, I wonder who thought of that first."

"Hey, you wanted to take over the world. You know I'm not for that," Jack exclaimed, pointing at Pitch.

Pitch threw his hands in the air as he said, "Still, that's mighty white of you Guardians. Give the pitiful villain a friend—."

"You know, all of this talk has started to make me sound like an object, so—."

"Oh, but you are. Don't you see? You've become a peace treaty—."

"Pitch, stop—."

He turned away, growling out, "This is so utterly ridiculous, being made to look like a child compared to the Guardians—."

"I didn't plan any of this!" Jack shouted, dropping his staff and spinning Pitch around to face him. The motion wasn't as impressive as he would've liked, but he was shorter than Pitch so he gave himself credit for trying. "I didn't plan for any of this to happen, but it did. Do you know how many times I've expected to die since I suggested it would be safer if you remained in control of your Nightmares?"

"What gave you that idea anyway?" The Boogeyman's expression was now one of bemusement.

"When they went rogue, they weren't just ruining the dreams of children. They weren't just creating bad dreams. They were attacking. It was . . . don't change the subject!"

"Took you long enough." A sly grin crawled across his face, and Jack couldn't help but feel less annoyed at it. He really should be more irritated with him.

"Seriously! I've expected to get killed for weeks now. I still wonder who's gonna take a stab at me first: you or the Guardians," Jack said, bending over to pick up his staff.

When he stood back up, Pitch was behind him again. A long arm pulled Jack closer to him, a gray hand teasing the flesh on Jack's neck. "I've already taken my stab at you," he whispered suggestively. "And I think you're rather attractive when you're flustered."

He blushed at Pitch's whispers. "Is this happening right now?" Jack's breath was hitching at the closeness of the Nightmare King. The unevenness of his breath only succeeded in making Pitch draw him closer. Jack could practically feel the smile on his enemy's (friend's?) face.

"Tell me, how do you think they discovered your relationship with me?" Pitch ran his long fingers over the column of Jack's throat before lightly gripping his chin and tilting the boy's head back.

"I don't know." Did he have to do this right now? Jack's blush deepened at the idea of someone finding them like this.

"I think I do." Pitch reached up with his other hand and ran his finger over a sensitive part on Jack's neck. Jack hissed, recognizing one of the bite marks just under his ear that Pitch had given him their first time. "I'm assuming you didn't have your hood up."

"Dammit, I—." Jack bit his lip to keep himself from crying out as Pitch pulled his sweatshirt collar aside and sank his teeth into a partially marked section of Jack's shoulder. The soreness of his already wounded skin combined with the new marks Pitch was leaving forced Jack to release a small moan despite his attempts at remaining quiet. He grabbed at Pitch's black robes, dropping his staff again to clutch the fabric. After what felt like several minutes, Pitch drew back his teeth and began sucking the wound. His warm mouth soothed the newly created teeth marks as one of Jack's hands snaked up Pitch's neck to rest in his black hair. "Pitch, I'm gonna kill you."

"Is that your way of talking dirty?" Pitch wrapped his arms around the slight form of Jack Frost.

"I'm dead serious. You're gonna die for that."

Jack prepared to step out of Pitch's embrace. At first, Pitch loosened his grip like he was going to let him. Then shadows wrapped around Jack's wrists and pulled him around to face Pitch. Jack actually did gasp and scream at that. When the shadows released him and he found himself once again in Pitch's arms, he was shaking slightly. "Having your hands tied really bothers you. Is there a specific reason for that?"

"No," Jack answered too quickly. He honestly didn't want to talk about it. His thoughts scattered, and he found himself resting his forehead against Pitch's chest. He still found it odd that he was already this comfortable in the presence of the Nightmare King. He figured he'd at least feel awkward after what they'd done, but he didn't. It still wasn't far from his mind that either Pitch or the Guardians might kill him for good measure. But instead of fear, embarrassment, anxiety, any of the above or unnamed emotions he likely should be feeling, he felt comfortable with Pitch. The feeling only increased when the Boogeyman tightened his hold on the young Guardian. Without thinking, he found himself answering Pitch's question, "I just . . . it's a silly fear I have."

"Fears are rarely silly. This one especially not."

Hugs are weird, Pitch found himself thinking. But he liked the feel of Jack's chill against his skin. He, however, did not like the idea that the boy was afraid of something. Something other than him, at least.

Even then, he wasn't sure if he wanted Jack to fear him. While it was a natural desire for him, he wanted Jack safe more than he wanted him terrified. He glimpsed down at the young Guardian's face, which was partially buried into his chest. Pitch cupped the bruised side of Jack's face with one hand, running his thumb over the boy's cold cheek. Another wave of rage washed through him at the sight of the wound.

"You know, your fingers twitch when you get angry," Jack uttered against Pitch's collarbone.

"They do not."

"Don't lie. You were totally just thinking about getting back at the kangaroo."

"You already know too much. I have to keep you around now."

"What, were you planning to get rid of me before this?"

Pitch smiled, staying silent just long enough to feel Jack's back stiffen in response to that quiet. The Nightmare King chuckled as the boy's eyes opened wide. "No, I have not intended to get rid of you in any way for a while now." Pitch smoothed over the furrow in Jack's brow, then ran a hand through the boy's white hair. "I will not see you hurt again."

"I'm a Guardian. I'm going to get hurt."

"I will tear apart anyone who harms you hereafter." Pitch tightened his hold on Jack, pulling him closer. Pitch surprised himself at how protective he already was of Jack Frost.

"Then let's hope I don't get into anymore scraps with the other Guardians."

"On the contrary, let's."

"No, Pitch." Jack looked up at the Nightmare King, ready to argue. Then Pitch kissed him, fiercely. He forced his tongue through Jack's lips, opening the boy's mouth to him. The coolness of Jack's mouth was growing more and more addicting to Pitch. The only thing more pleasing than the boy's temperature was the symphony of noises Pitch could force from him. Jack moaned against Pitch's lips, and Pitch couldn't help but pull away and smile down at the winter spirit.

"Well, Guardian of Fun, you have a job to do. As do I. I have plans to make. Plans you likely don't want to see." Pitch stepped back, releasing the boy reluctantly, and disappeared into his shadows. "I'll see you soon, Jack Frost."

Jack sighed, still finding it hard to believe he wasn't dead yet. When Pitch left him alone, he sighed and picked up his staff for what felt like the umpteenth time. "What am I doing?" he asked himself. He was, for better or for worse, in an alliance with Pitch Black. A strange alliance, too. And the Guardians were allowing it. This was only going to get more difficult. Sandy had seen that Pitch understood Jack on a level the Guardians likely couldn't, and Jack understood Pitch similarly. That alone had helped him walk away with only a bruise. He didn't know how to feel about this arrangement. When he was with Pitch, he felt safer than was sane. And, well . . . things had happened between them. He still wasn't quite sure what to say or how to feel about those things. He looked up at the moon instinctively. "You. Don't look at me like that. I didn't know this was gonna happen."

He didn't think that was a viable excuse for what he'd gotten himself into, and it was too late to change any of it now. The more he thought about it, though, the less he worried. The less he worried, the more he felt like he didn't really want it to change. Yet.

This better be fun for all the trouble I've gotten into for it, he thought to himself. He snickered then, letting the wind carry him away. A snow day was in order somewhere in the west.

Crutches

Having Pitch as a partner was not as terrifying as Jack had previously thought it would be. He visited him as often as was possible (whenever he didn't have a road to ice or a meeting with the Guardians). Most of the time it was Pitch who found him first, however. Teleportation by shadows still elicited screams from Jack, and it seemed like Pitch had turned it into a game sometimes. Just how loud can he make Jack scream? More to the point, how long can Jack go without screaming? Jack always lost that particular game, one way or another.

But every now and then, Jack Frost had to sleep. Sometimes being the Guardian of Fun was just a little tiring. He wasn't that picky about his sleeping areas. His only requirements were that the space needed to be cold and either high up or underground. However, Pitch had turned Jack's resting time into yet another game.

"How many times are you going to kidnap me in my sleep?" Jack asked. This was at least the tenth time he'd gone to sleep on a tree limb and woken up in Pitch's bed.

"Until you learn that it's safer to sleep here than in random places across the globe," Pitch answered from the shadows. He was doing that voice throwing trick again. Jack was convinced he did it specifically because it unnerved him. Jack rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. Of course Pitch did things because he knew they were unnerving. This was the Boogeyman after all. "Don't complain. You seem to like my bed. You sleep longer in it."

"Newsflash for you, Nightmare King," Jack said as he sat up, "your lair isn't always accessible when I'm tired."

"You should have a more consistent sleep schedule anyway. Then you could plan this sort of thing and I won't have to kidnap you."

"I've tried. It doesn't work that way. When I'm tired, I drop on the nearest comfortable branch or in a hole in the ground or something." He pulled the covers aside, preparing to stand up. Before he did, he glanced about for his crook. "Have you hidden my staff again?"

"If I threaten you with a few nightmares, will you at least try to heed my requests?" Pitch emerged from the shadows just in front of Jack as he said this. Jack almost jumped at the close proximity of Pitch's manifestation.

"Threats aren't going to get you anything but a series of curses, Boogeyman."

"Well, I do like the sound of your voice. Most of the time." Pitch's grin turned mischievous. Jack had started learning the difference between Pitch's mischievous looks and his truly malicious ones rather quickly. He at least hoped this one was only mischievous. There was something mixed in with the mischief, though. Something that bothered Jack.

"Gee, thanks." Jack stood up, wishing for the umpteenth time that he was just a little bit taller so that he could meet Pitch's gaze evenly. "Now where's my staff?"

"Oh, you don't still need that thing when you're with me, do you?" Pitch's pouts were rather aggressive, Jack had realized. Usually those pouts followed with Jack getting jumped in some way, and Jack was still a little too tired to react as quickly as he would normally. He wasn't too tired to notice how twitchy Pitch was, however.

"I can't do my work without it." He stared closer at the Boogeyman. Something was definitely amiss.

"Why don't you call it what it is: a crutch?"

"Because if it breaks, I can fix it. Done it before, reme—." Jack gasped as he found himself on his back with Pitch pinning him to the sheets. The Boogeyman was careful to avoid his wrists. He always was. Jack hated his arms being trapped in any way. But that didn't mean Jack could escape him any easier. "Pitch—."

"I remember that time very well, Jack," Pitch growled into the Guardian's ear. That was enough to make Jack forget about Pitch's suspicious behavior.

"Pitch, what are—?" Jack let out a groan as the Nightmare King brought one of his knees to rest between the winter spirit's legs. "What are you doing?"

"I remember being rather infuriated with you for letting me down." His growl was quieter, but Jack was much more aware of the hot breath against his sensitive skin.

"Are you listening to me?" Pitch forced yet another groan from Jack by sliding his warm hands under the boy's shirt. "No, you're not."

"I also remember being dragged away by my own creations." Chills ran down Jack's spine as the voice began to sound malevolent.

"And who exactly helped you get them ba—?" The word turned into a scream as Pitch ran sharpened claws over one of Jack's pectorals. Jack's hands seized Pitch's shoulders then. "Ow!" It was then that Jack felt Pitch smile against his neck. He didn't have to look to see that this was one of Pitch's ambiguous smiles, somewhere between mischievous and threatening. Jack had done it this time.

"Your abilities are anything but forgettable, but you can imagine how unpleasant those memories are for me."

Jack's whole body shook as one of Pitch's hands swept from beneath his shirt to around his throat. Jack could still breathe, fortunately. The hand wasn't squeezing. He was still in the process of getting used to Pitch's antics, and this was something he had not yet encountered. "Shit!" he managed to choke out, grabbing Pitch's arm. The Nightmare King's devilish face was inches from his, now. Jack did not like the look Pitch was giving him, not one bit. He'd been right after all. He was going to die.

"You're scared, aren't you Jack," Pitch declared. He knew it was a declaration and not a question. Pitch would know he was afraid without even trying.

"No." Pitch's enhanced knowledge of Jack's fears didn't stop him from denying it, though.

"You are a little liar. I can smell your fear."

"What the hell is wrong with—?" Jack made a short gasp when Pitch tightened his grip on the boy's throat just the slightest bit. Without thinking, he slammed his fist against Pitch's side. When the Boogeyman flinched and hissed more than Jack had anticipated, he knew what was wrong. "Pitch, you're injured!"

"No shit," the Nightmare King growled, releasing Jack and sliding off of him.

"God, you do cuss." Jack felt like that surprised him more than was necessary. When Pitch was on his back, Jack moved quickly. Before the Boogeyman could protest, the winter spirit had his robe pulled to the side and was inspecting a long gash that stretched down and across his ribs to his back. "What the hell, Pitch?"

"The rabbit sharpened his boomerangs specifically for me. I just know it." Pitch's devilish expression was gone and now he just looked . . . upset? What was that face?

"You attacked him even when I told you not to?!" Jack was angry now.

"He punched my face!" Pitch wasn't even looking at him when he snarled that out through sharp teeth.

"My face, you mean!"

"Let's agree that it belongs to both of us—."

"Pitch, regardless of whose face is in question, you cannot attack everyone who punches me in the cheek for making a decision they think is—."

"What? Stupid?! This is stupid now?!"

"Oh my God, please just stop. You know I don't think this is stupid." Jack fought to calm down, looking down at Pitch. The Nightmare King was stiff as a board, and his face was twisted in a grimace. His lips were so tightly pursed that his mouth was little more than a thin line. If Jack stared long enough at the twitchy Boogeyman, he'd probably start to laugh. But Pitch was injured, and Jack was still rather annoyed. "Why did you attack me if you were injured?" Before Pitch could speak, Jack interrupted with, "Let me guess: fear helps you heal."

"Not necessarily—."

"It's a numbing agent, then."

"You know entirely too much."

Jack sighed, rubbing his forehead until the tips of his fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt movement on the bed, and managed to shove Pitch back down onto the sheets before he could escape. "Don't move. Now where is my staff?"

"Why?"

"Because ice is a better numbing agent, you frickin' lunatic. You're the one with a crutch!"

Jack hadn't thought Pitch's lips could purse any tighter, but they did. He almost cracked a smile. Almost. "It's under the bed." Jack slid off the bed, pointing a finger at Pitch indicating that if he moved he would be in more trouble. After retrieving the crook, he felt his energy strengthen. He sat down next to Pitch on the bed, then traced a finger over Pitch's gash. The Nightmare King hissed again, but it soon turned into a relieved moan as ice formed over the cut and covered the surrounding area. Jack set his staff aside, checking what he'd done for Pitch's wound. While inspecting, he heard Pitch mutter, "Feels much better . . . ."

"I would think so." Jack sighed again, glimpsing the contentment on Pitch's face. He looked down at his hands. "You know the quickest way to scare me anyway. Why didn't you use that?"

"It's no fun just grabbing your forearms and holding you down. Especially when you don't like it. Getting someone scared requires foreplay, just like—."

"Okay, I got that. Why'd you use the past to get to me this time? Did the kangaroo say something to you?"

Pitch grumbled a series of inaudible sentences before answering with, "He may have reminded me of a few events that determined your Guardianship."

Honesty. That was a step. "So you took your frustrations with my friends out on me. That's cool I guess. Maybe next time you piss me off, I ought to disintegrate one of your Nightmares."

"You wouldn't—."

"Oh, but according to you, I would." Pitch and Jack locked eyes, and Jack could just barely catch the sadness in Pitch's gaze. It was there and gone again in a flash, though. "You and I can't function like this. We can't hide wounds from each other and vow to get back at everyone for hurting one another."

"I don't see why not."

"Pitch, don't attack my friends. Only a little while ago, you and I were mortal enemies. Can you please understand why they'd be upset with me for . . . you know?" He looked down at his hands again to avoid Pitch's gaze.

There was quiet for a while. Jack was incredibly uncomfortable, and still couldn't look at Pitch. When a warm hand touched his cheek, Jack pressed his face further into the palm. "You still talk like such a virgin."

"I do not." Jack could feel himself blush. He dared to look at Pitch's face, and the Boogeyman's sly grin made Jack smile in return. "I swear I thought I was gonna get murdered."

"I told you, I have to keep you around. You know too much."

"You cut open my chest. You had your hand around my throat."

"It wasn't the first time I grabbed your throat, or scratched you for that matter. I didn't draw blood. Well, not that much. And I remember you liked these things the last time." Pitch's hand slid down Jack's face to his throat. Jack forced himself to relax as the Nightmare King's thumb stroked his Adam's apple, his nails digging into the back of the Guardian's neck. "You gorgeous boy."

"Are you going to compliment me and remind me of how adorable you think I am every time we argue?"

"If it works, then yes." Pitch pulled Jack by the throat, making the winter spirit gasp. Jack found himself straddling Pitch.

"Your cut—."

"Feels amazing. The only thing that would make it better would be an equally long gash in that rab—."

"Did you hear a word I said earlier? No. None of that. And if you don't listen, I'll be forced to freeze you in place."

"Are you sure you're the Guardian of Fun? Because right now, you're no fun at all." Pitch pouted, only this time Jack had to bite his finger to stop from laughing at the look the Boogeyman was giving him. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"I don't like that face you're making." Pitch's scowl deepened.

"I'm just smiling." Jack struggled to keep the laughter suppressed.

"That is not a smile. That is a bastardization of a smile. You are mocking me, Jack Frost." The Nightmare King's body was getting stiff again. "I banish that face. It is not allowed in my lair again."

"Shut up." Jack smothered Pitch with a kiss before that scowl overwhelmed him. After a few moments, Jack could feel Pitch's smile against his lips, too. He pulled away briefly, letting their breath mingle for a moment. "If I send a small-scale blizzard through Bunny's Warren, will that make you happy?" Jack whispered.

"You do care for me." Jack chuckled against Pitch's lips as he found himself being pulled in for another kiss.

Freezing

Jack was tired. June was the start of the extremely boring months for him, and he couldn't help but long for a place to rest. He smirked at himself; maybe he ought to try for Pitch's lair after all. Pitch currently wasn't happy with him, but maybe he'd be in a better mood if Jack adhered to at least one of his demands. It had been two days since he'd last seen Pitch, and he'd been quite busy since that meeting. Jack had wanted to teach Pitch a lesson for attacking Bunny, and had also wanted him to stop twitching. The wound Bunny had given Pitch wasn't going to heal if Pitch continued roaming dramatically about his lair plotting another attack. Jack also couldn't afford to have Pitch interfere with his work.

So what was the most logical thing for Jack to do to the Nightmare King? Trap him in his lair. Specifically, freeze him under his own bed. He promised the Boogeyman that if he managed to escape before the week was up that he could kidnap Jack for a month. It was summer after all. The world could do with the disappearance of a winter spirit. And if Pitch managed to escape the fortified ice walls Jack had constructed before then, he would be impressed.

So when a pair of hands grabbed his ankles after only two days of encasement, Jack knew they couldn't be Pitch's. His suspicions were confirmed when he was jerked screaming down a grassy tunnel, tumbling and sliding until he landed in the Warren. Usually, he would've landed on a grassy knoll or some springtime looking space surrounded by blindingly bright colors. This time, however, he landed in a pile of wet snow.

"What is this?!" an infuriated voice that could only be the kangaroo's shouted at Jack. "What have you done to my Warren?!"

"What makes you think it was me?" Jack asked, a sly grin spreading across his face as he surveyed what was, in fact, his handiwork. The bright colors of Bunny's home were muted by a foot of snow.

"Don't play dumb with me, you bloody show-off! I know you did this, and I'd like to know how you managed to get past both meself and my defenses."

Jack shrugged, folding his arms. May as well admit to his crime. "Getting past your sentinels was easy. Getting you distracted enough, not so much. But I did it." The rabbit bristled at his words, clenching his fists as Jack continued to speak. "And I'd like you to know how ridiculous your climate control is because it took entirely too much energy to get a foot of snow—."

Jack was interrupted by Bunny tackling him to the ground, the only sound escaping his mouth being a loud oof. His head slammed into the dirt as Bunny sat on his middle, keeping him on the ground. Two paws yanked him up by the shirt collar so that he was nose to nose with the rabbit. "Do you have any idea how far back this could set me in my work?" Bunny growled.

"Dude, your whiskers are tickling—."

"I can't find any of the eggs I've been working on! If they've been broken—."

"They're not. I hid them." Bunny snarled, flinging Jack back onto his back. The younger Guardian hit his head again, scrunching his face in hopes of removing the sensation of Bunny's whiskers tickling his cheeks. Before he knew it, he'd been punched in the jaw. A cold lump set in his chest, coiling with his anger. Having hit his head a third time, he was now officially pissed off. "Okay," he said, shoving the rabbit off of him with what little strength he had, "first of all, nothing in your place is harmed. The snow is melting already." He kicked some of the wet, thinning layer at the rabbit. "Second of all, you've got about nine months before Easter, and if need be I'll help you meet your quota when crunch time rolls around. Done it before, in case you don't remember. Third of all, you punching me in the face is what started this whole thing!" He pointed at his cheek for emphasis.

"It's not my fault your shady boyfriend attacked me!"

"No, it's not. And I've already taken care of him. This is payback for you slicing him open. I don't see a single scratch on you!"

"He attacked me. In my home!"

"Again, you also punched him in his face."

"Yeah, because . . . wait, what?"

The baffled look on Bunny's face almost made Jack crack a smile, but he was simply too annoyed. "Don't ask. Both of you need to stop treating me like I don't know what I'm doing."

Bunny jabbed a finger into Jack's chest as he said, "From the sound of it, you don't. It seems like you need some reminding too, mate. Pitch is our enemy!"

"He's not my enemy. He saved my life—."

"He also tried killing ya. Twice, at least. Remember last Easter? If not for the Guardians, you wouldn't even have a head right now!"

"Is that what you said to him?"

"What?"

"You said something to him that made him come back to his lair acting weird as hell. What did you say to him?"

"What's the matter, did the two of you have a little lover's quarrel or something?" Bunny and Jack glared at each other for a moment. Then Bunny's eyes narrowed further. "Did he hurt y—?"

"What did you tell him?!" Jack swung his staff angrily, putting Bunny even more on edge.

"I did exactly what I've been trying to do with you! I reminded him that you were the one who tilted the balance in our favor when we battled with him. Without you, the Guardians could've lost all their power. Maybe even their lives. If nothing else, you and Jamie were the ones who truly defeated him. And boy, did that go to his he—."

It was Jack's turn to punch Bunny in the face. He succeeded, but not without great effort. The rabbit stumbled, cupping his jaw and grumbling. Jack cursed. "I'm so sick of being surrounded by people who are taller than me!" Jack pulled his hair, suppressing an angry shout. His frustration had reached its limit. "You wanna know why he was so hell-bent on killing me in that battle? Pitch Black does not take being told no kindly at all!"

"What are you blabbering about now?" The rabbit worked his jaw in circles as he said this.

"Before I returned to help you guys, Pitch offered me a place at his side. He asked me to join him. But I didn't. Even after all of you were convinced that I betrayed you, I stayed loyal to you. And right now, Pitch understands that if loyalties are tested again, I will still side with you. I'm a Guardian. I took the oath. But . . .," he stopped. He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Pitch gives me something that none of you can afford to give me. You're busy all the time. The few believers I have . . . well, I can't be with them twenty-four seven. My job's not the same as the rest of the Guardians'. It still gets pretty lonely, and the only thing worse than never having known contact with others is knowing what it's like and not being able to get it."

Bunny's expression had softened a great deal, but some of his features remained hard. "But mate, this is Pitch we're talking about. Is he even capable of—?"

"You'd be surprised. Trust me, I've mulled over all of what I'm telling you about a million times since he stopped the black sand. A lot of it still doesn't make sense, so I've given up trying to piece it together. Could you please trust and respect me enough to take the consequences if this doesn't work out in my favor?"

"If the world suffers those consequences, I'd be hard-pressed to forgive you." Though it was supposed to sound harsh, Bunny's face was devoid of harshness at this point.

Jack tried for a smile. "That makes two of us. But we defeated him once. Doing it again . . . would be rough, but not impossible."

Bunny sighed, his muscles no longer tensed in anticipation for a fight. Jack also relaxed upon seeing this. Then Bunny pointed at him again suspiciously, "I punched his face?"

"It's a joint-custody situation. Apparently my face is only half mine."

"And this is supposed to be normal?"

"Look, kangaroo, how normal can you expect Pitch to act? I still have to get used to his eccentricities."

"What exactly did you do to him in light of," he gestured to his snowy Warren, "this?"

"I may or may not have frozen him under a bed." Bunny looked straight in Jack's face, and Jack was sure he was going to say something snarky. Instead, the rabbit started laughing. Loudly. Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'm glad you think that's funny. Now that I think about it, it probably wasn't such a good idea after all."

"Don't be silly! That's brilliant!" Bunny straightened up, trying to talk through laughter. "What's he gonna do to you when he gets out, mate?"

"If he gets out by the end of the week, he has full permission to hold me hostage until July. So if no one sees me before next month, don't panic. I'm sure I'll be . . . fine." Great, now Jack was actually thinking about the possible results of Pitch freeing himself. Most of them seemed okay, unless Pitch emerged in an even worse mood than when Jack had sealed him in.

"Yeah, I'm gonna try hard not to think about that," Bunny admitted honestly, a look of disgust crawling across his face.

"That's probably for the best." Jack and Bunny both looked out over the snow-covered Warren. The grass was already becoming visible through the snow. He knew that would at least make Bunny a little less unnerved. "I think the water has actually helped the river of dyes. They look a little less . . . I guess creamy. I'm a little upset I couldn't get the snowfall to last any longer than—."

"Just shut up." Bunny's voice lacked the rage it'd born before when addressing the snow in his home. Jack smiled, this time without having to try.

"Your eggs are over there somewhere, by the way." Jack pointed to a spot on the far end of the space. "Like I said, none are harmed."

"Much appreciated. Now get out before I throw you into the dyes."

"No problem. And if he gets stupid and attacks because he thinks you've injured me again, next time you have full permission to kick his ass. Convincing all of you to chill is a lot easier than convincing him to." Jack saw the smile Bunny was trying to hide before he left.

"Alright, Pitch," Jack murmured as he slunk over to the bed. "I'm gonna give sleeping in your bed willingly a try for once. It's not like you can snatch me off a limb in this state anyway." He glanced at the icy structure that contained the Nightmare King under the bed. It didn't look like Pitch had managed to pierce it yet, and Jack had been smart enough to make travelling by shadow as hard as possible for him. When he got closer to the bed, he could hear the muffled growls and grumbles from underneath. He wasn't surprised to hear a loud thunk as Pitch likely threw himself against the ice. "Don't hurt yourself. That's the exact opposite of the point. How's your injury?" Jack struggled to suppress a laugh as a string of what were probably insults and threats seeped out of the Boogeyman's prison. For once, Jack was the one winning the game of making someone shout. It felt nice. Although, he was a little uneasy about the one audible line of 'I'll kill you' that he'd picked up from Pitch's roars. Deciding not to put too much weight on the threat, he set his crook against the wall and flopped onto the bed. "Sleepy sleep, Pitch. If you manage to kill me in my sleep, I'll try to be understanding," he said cheerily as he got comfortable.

He very clearly heard Pitch scream, "No, you'll be dead!" Jack did laugh this time, his weariness getting the better of his good senses. The sound of Pitch growling in outrage was enough to lull him into a slumber.

Thawing Out

The first thing Jack became aware of was how hot he was. He didn't bother opening his eyes. He figured he was just buried under blankets. That happened sometimes when he found himself sleeping in Pitch's bed. He swiped at his hip, expecting to feel the blankets at his fingertips. Instead, his forearm hit something harder. It had felt like someone's wrist.

The second thing Jack became aware of was the additional weight on the bed. It slowly registered in his still partially sleeping mind that he'd gone to bed alone, and that Pitch was supposed to be trapped under the bed. A tremor of fear ran through him as that knowledge dawned on him.

The last thing Jack became aware of was the heavy breathing. He didn't feel it. He just heard it. His whole body tensed and his eyes shot open. He didn't dare move, but he managed to look up out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, the Nightmare King was looming over him, his teeth bared and his whole body wet and shivering. Jack didn't want to remember the last time he'd seen Pitch this angry.

Jack wondered if he was fast enough to slip out from underneath Pitch and run for cover, but was fairly convinced that the Boogeyman had strategically placed himself on top of him in such a way that escape wasn't an option. So Jack stayed still and tried hard to conceal his own shivering.

"You," Pitch growled very slowly, placing emphasis on each word, "trapped me under the bed." Jack definitely couldn't remember the Nightmare King sounding this deadly.

Jack didn't want to speak. He was too scared to. But Pitch wasn't taking silence for an answer. "H-how's your side?" he whispered.

"I can't feel it for the ice." Pitch's voice only got lower and deadlier.

Jack couldn't hide the fact that he was shaking. He didn't know what to expect from Pitch. All he knew was that he was terrified. "I don't suggest getting any closer to me. I'll only make you colder."

"Stop," Pitch's hand flung out to cover Jack's mouth, making Jack jump and roll over to face the infuriated Boogeyman, "talking." Shit, Jack thought. Shit shit shit. Suddenly, he couldn't see. Something black covered his eyes, and the lack of weight told him Pitch had blinded him with shadow. Shit, he was blindfolded and shaking like a newborn. "The only good thing about this is I get to keep you for a month." Pitch's hand left Jack's mouth as something started pulling at his shirt. "I hope you got plenty of rest, because you won't be sleeping for a while."

Jack could hardly focus on the threatening tone Pitch was using on him. He was too busy shaking from the touch of what felt like multiple hands pulling his sweatshirt over his head before running over his torso. The sensation was overwhelming. He felt like he was being assaulted by the feather light touches and struggled to keep his breathing in check. He jumped again when two hot, much heavier hands pulled his pants off. Then all contact ceased and he was left lying naked on the bed, shaking, his heart bursting from a mixture of terror and what he thought might be excitement. He wasn't quite sure yet, though. The hardest part was remaining blind, knowing someone was watching and being unable to properly defend himself if need be. The thought sent a shiver down his spine and he clenched his fists in the bed sheets to keep from shaking. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath since the touching stopped. He tried to let it out slowly, but it came out so shakily that it was obvious he was scared. If only he could see what was happening. "Pitch?" he dared ask.

"I said stop talking." The deadliness in the Boogeyman's tone had subsided, but his voice was still low and unsettling to Jack. He wanted to shrink into the covers and hide until Pitch wasn't angry anymore. Of course, hiding from Pitch was damn near impossible now that he thoroughly had the Nightmare King's attention. He let out a horrified gasp as hot hands slid over his wrists and began moving them above his head. When his fingers touched the metal bed frame, he was told, "Keep your hands here. If you let go, I'll be forced to restrain you. I can assure you that neither of us want that, but I'm not exactly in the mood to negotiate."

Jack gripped the bars that made up the head of the bed with such force that he surprised himself. Again, he was left lying naked and untouched. He listened intently, hoping to pick up on something, anything, to tell him what Pitch was doing. He heard the faintest rustling of cloth. Then there was nothing. He clenched his teeth and sealed his lips to keep the shaking at bay. Was this fear or excitement? Was it still a mixture? He really couldn't tell, and that bothered him more than having an angry Pitch Black looming around him while he was blind and vulnerable. "Pitch—."

"Don't make me gag you. I do love the sound of your voice. Most of the time." Jack was glad that he had enough restraint not to shudder when he felt a finger trace the line of his lips. "Do you trust me?" Well, if that wasn't a loaded question Jack didn't know what was. Besides, how was he supposed to answer if he wasn't allowed to talk? His mind went into a panic, thinking about the question. He tensed, racking his brain. Before he'd actually come up with an answer, his head betrayed him by nodding. "Yes? Interesting." Indeed, Jack thought. How had his body come to such a quick conclusion before his mind? "If that's the case, you have no reason to be afraid."

Oh boy, those words coming from the mouth of the Nightmare King should definitely concern Jack Frost. But in keeping with consistency, his body once again betrayed his thought processes by relaxing. The almost instinctual feeling of comfort around Pitch Black still dumbfounded him. He was especially befuddled by how comfortable he was even though Pitch was mad at him. Then again, he was lying naked on the Nightmare King's bed with said king hovering around him and making him feel . . . oh yeah, this was definitely excitement. Anticipation mingled heavily, but this was most definitely not fear anymore.

A chuckle reached his ears. Pitch? Chuckling? What? Jack felt a hint of nervousness return as he resumed gritting his teeth, wondering what on earth was entertaining the Boogeyman now. "If only you could see the blush on your cheeks."

"Hey!" Jack said defensively. He almost let go of the head of the bed, but thought better of it. He was ready to kick, but soon found his mouth being covered by a smoldering hand.

"Seems you just can't be quiet like I asked." Pitch's nails dug into his cheeks, the tips of his fingers soon giving way to talons. For a moment, Jack felt the bite of the points, but the hand was soon replaced by a weightless bind much like the one around his eyes. He went to speak again, but found himself effectively gagged. He didn't know whether to feel annoyed or nervous about Pitch using his shadows to tie him. He was at least grateful that his hands were free, in a sense.

A hand slipped around Jack's throat and he stopped breathing. The hand was gentle, but the contact was enough to give the Guardian pause. His whole body was still, so still he was sure he could feel his heart beating fast even in his toes. The feeling was odd, at best. When the hand slid down over his chest, a moan crawled past his lips only to be muffled by the gag. He breathed again, but he was breathing faster than normal. He paid attention to the hand that was roaming his skin, felt the heat of it, felt the curve of the fingers and the dip in the palm. He also felt the very light presences of the talons, the points grazing his skin but leaving no marks. Yet. This was Pitch. He was going to leave marks.

And Jack wanted him to.

He was amazed at how being blindfolded made him pay attention to something as simple as the smoothness of the pads of Pitch's fingers. He knew those hands were just as graceful as they were lethal, but he'd never really noticed how smooth they were. Free of callouses.

His thoughts ceased when the hand paused right between his bellybutton and his groin. He was struggling to keep his breathing even now, his heart pounding faster. The excitement and anticipation mounted within him, and all he wanted was for Pitch to keep touching him. But the hand left him, as if it knew what Jack wanted. He groaned discontentedly, and could almost hear Pitch's gloating smile.

"I should leave you on this bed, without eyes or voice. That would be a fair punishment for what you've done." Jack wanted to panic at those words. He wanted to argue, but couldn't. Wanted to see Pitch's every move to make sure he wasn't really going to leave Jack alone, but couldn't. Now he really regretted what he'd done to Pitch, because he knew it really would be fair to just leave Jack like this. Then the rustling of clothing reached his ears again and he found an equally naked Pitch straddling his waist, chest to chest with him. "But you're just too tempting, my dear boy."

And then the gag was gone and Pitch's lips were on his. The molten tongue invaded Jack's mouth and Jack leaned into the kiss, arching his back to get as close to Pitch as possible while keeping his hands wrapped firmly around the bars on the bed frame. Pitch's hands rested on either side of Jack's face at first. They left, then reemerged on Jack's back. Pitch's arms wrapped around him as the kiss deepened. Then he felt them; the claws, marking his back, running down his shoulder blades and sides. Jack growled into Pitch's lips, and he could feel the Boogeyman smile against his. The Nightmare King sank his talons deeper into Jack, pushing the Guardian to scream and arch his back even more. Pitch laughed yet again, pulling up slightly. Just as the scream had been wrung out of him, a groan escaped Jack's lips as a hot mouth surrounded one of his nipples. A tongue ran over the sensitive flesh, the slightest nip sending a shudder through Jack. Pitch repeated the process on the other nipple, before he pulled away entirely and Jack was left alone on the bed.

This time, he knew not to speak, but he couldn't help but whimper at being left completely alone. Had he really been left alone? Or was Pitch just watching him? The latter was very likely. But the loss of weight on the bed bothered Jack more than he was willing to admit. He started twitching, wondering if he could let go of the headboard and sit up. What's the use of doing any of that, though? He couldn't remove the shadows over his eyes. Again, he felt the panic return. It was the only part of this scenario that he really didn't like: how easy it was for him to panic.

"Before we continue," Jack let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Pitch's voice, "I'm going to need something from you."

"Anything," Jack breathed the word out.

Pitch chuckled, his voice low again and bouncing from a different part of the room. Jack hated that trick. "As much as I like the sound of that word on your lips, I have something specific in mind."

"Anything," Jack said again. Only then did it dawn on him just how much trust he was placing in Pitch by using that word.

"Good." Jack could feel Pitch slide back onto the bed before a hand wrapped around the back of his neck. "Come here." Jack let go of the bars and was pulled across the bed towards the Nightmare King. He was face to face with the Boogeyman, close enough to feel his hot breath on his lips when he said, "Why don't you show me how much you want this?" Jack knew it wasn't really a question, even though Pitch had phrased it as such. Before he could put further thought into it, he was being pushed downward until he felt the tip of Pitch's member against his mouth. Jack hesitated for a moment. "I've been dying to know what your tongue can do."

Jack took a deep breath before seizing the head of Pitch's cock with his mouth. Running his tongue over the contours of the tip for a few seconds, he attempted to take more of Pitch into his mouth. The word 'attempted' definitely fit the bill, because there was no way he could get the entirety of Pitch inside before gagging. He focused on sucking what parts he could get into his mouth, moving his head along Pitch's length in order to give the Nightmare King exactly what Jack thought he wanted. He couldn't have been doing too terribly, because he managed to elicit some groans from Pitch after all.

His throat felt raw and his mouth was drying by the time Jack felt that familiar hand wrap around his throat again and coax him upward. Then Pitch shoved him down onto the bed and lifted his thighs. Without any preparation, Pitch slid into him. The breath was ripped from Jack's lungs and he was left gasping and moaning as the Nightmare King thrust into him. "You're still so tight," Pitch whispered. The feeling of Pitch inside of him still overwhelmed him, and he could still feel his body struggling to adjust. But despite the pressure, it just felt so damn good. Jack bit his lip, as he had done many times while Pitch played the game of making him scream louder. It was always the last resort when he knew Pitch was winning.

Pitch always had a way of making him stop, though. This time, he kissed Jack fiercely, forcing his lip from between his teeth before sucking the lip into his mouth and teasing it with his sharp teeth. When he released Jack's mouth, he leaned in to kiss the Guardian's neck. He nipped lightly at the sensitive flesh, threatening to bite down if Jack tried to withhold his screams. With his shoulder pressed closely to Jack's mouth, Jack did something he'd never done before: he sank his teeth into the Boogeyman's flesh.

The growl that reached Jack's ears and the shudder that ran through Pitch's body made Jack pull away. He prepared to apologize, only to have Pitch bury his face into the hollow of Jack's neck and distract him with hot breath against his pale throat. Pitch wrapped an arm around Jack's waist while keeping the other hand firm on the Guardian's thigh, then sat up while crushing Jack against him. The Guardian was being slammed against the head of the bed, the air knocked out of him as Pitch snarled into his ear, "Don't stop!"

Jack obliged, biting into Pitch's neck while gripping the Nightmare King's shoulders. He groaned loudly against Pitch's skin as his partner's thrusting became both faster and harder. Jack felt the Boogeyman adjust his hold on him, the hand on his thigh leaving his skin to grip the headboard to maintain his new pace. Jack's groans grew louder as he wrapped his legs around Pitch and became overwhelmed by all of the sensations. The heat of Pitch's skin, the sweat forming on both of them, the claw marks, the metal biting into his back, all of these feelings only helped to enhance the thrill of having Pitch Black thrusting into him. He bit harder, digging his nails into Pitch's shoulders. This succeeded in evoking a series of deeper growls that Jack could feel erupting from the Nightmare King's chest.

He could feel himself nearing orgasm. The closeness of it was so tempting. Before he could, though, he felt Pitch spasm inside of him. He released the flesh he had pinned between his teeth, struggling to even out his breathing as Pitch sighed into his neck and slumped against him. Jack let out a shaky breath, wondering what exactly he was supposed to do about his lack of release. Just as he thought he was going to have to find a way to relax again, a hot hand seized the back of his neck and tilted his head back. Before he knew it, his heart was crashing against his ribcage and his breathing was hitching again. "I'm not done with you."

He didn't have time to register the depth of Pitch's tone as the Boogeyman slipped out of him and pushed him back onto his back. His throat was being assaulted by sharp teeth, and the blood Pitch was drawing from him dripped down his chest. Jack's screams were unabashed at this point. Just when he thought Pitch was going to chew the skin off Jack's neck, the Nightmare King started trailing kisses over the line of blood. Even when the blood trail ended, Pitch continued downward. Jack shuddered as that hot mouth moved even closer to Jack's erection. Pitch's lips left Jack's flesh for a short time. Then his molten mouth was surrounding the Guardian and devouring his cold member. Jack moaned, fighting to keep his hips still. Pitch teased him, his heat bringing Jack back to the edge. Jack knew he was finished when Pitch pressed his hot fingertips against the winter spirit's prostate. He exploded in Pitch's mouth, shouting as the Boogeyman drank the liquid that Jack produced.

Pitch pulled away and Jack rolled onto his front, giving the now burning marks on his back some air. Pitch crawled up Jack's body to rest partially on top of him, taking care to avoid his handiwork. Only now did Jack start to really relax. Only now did he realize just how spent he was. He ached. He wondered if the aching ever got any better. Of course, he forgot about the pain as Pitch kissed his shoulder blade and ran a hand through Jack's white hair. When Jack was able to catch his breath, he said, "Well that went better than expected."

"Wait till you see your back. I think it's a work of art."

"You would. Now that we're on the topic of seeing, are you taking this thing off my face?"

He felt the mischievous smile on Pitch's lips. "No. I think three days of being blind would do for justice."

"I'll go blind from that much darkness."

"No you won't. You'll just be able to see in the dark better than I'd prefer."

"Then why do it?"

"Because despite my foul mood earlier, I have benefited from my time in captivity. It's only fair I do the same for you."

"So your side has improved?"

"Yes, though I am loath to admit it."

"You'll be happy to know Bunny wasn't impressed by my 'gift,' then."

Jack felt Pitch's smile widen, a chuckle rumbling through the Nightmare King. "Beautiful, my exquisite Frost."

It was Jack's turn to chuckle. "Your terms of endearment are entertaining."

"And I don't think twenty-eight days is enough time for me to study you."

"Why do I feel like an insect?"

Pitch wrapped his arms possessively around Jack's shoulders, again avoiding the marks he'd left on the Guardian. "You're not. But if you were, you'd still be my insect."

Jack chuckled.

Things Without a Name

"Must we always have meetings here? I'm shaking in my fur."

Bunny glared at North, but North only smiled back. "Is closer to Christmas than Easter this time of year. Yetis and elves get easily distracted."

"Yeah, sure mate." Their meetings were helpful. They were meant to keep the Guardians on their toes so that someone or something didn't catch them by surprise. Pitch's return, though it had brought Jack Frost to them, had put them all on the edge. So they tried to keep each other posted just in case something new showed up on the radar. "How's the production going, by the way?"

They had ceased to make quips over the importance of one holiday versus the other when they'd come to the conclusion that each of their roles in the lives of children was equally important. Another thing that had come from the situation that had led to the emergence of their new Guardian. Bunny felt a bad taste in his mouth at the thought of where Jack was at this moment in time. North's answer brought him back to the current scene, "Faster than usual. Which is good. Humans are always crazy around that time of year."

"Yeah, mate. My time of year, too."

Sandy flew in at that point. Soon, Tooth followed with a few of her fairies. "Hi, guys!" Tooth greeted them. "Where's Jack?"

"Yes, he's usually here by now," North concurred.

"Oh, uh," Bunny hesitated. "He's, uh, he's occupied." Sandy raised an eyebrow, a question mark appearing above his head. "Honestly, Sandy, whataya think he's doing?"

"Well don't sound so harsh, Bunny. I have noticed a decent amount of inactivity in Pitch lately. Jack must be doing something right," North reassured.

"Yeah. Right." Bunny still hated the idea that Jack was holed up with the Nightmare King. He still hated the idea that Jack was seeing Pitch at all. And North made it sound like they'd traded Jack for a bit of quiet from Pitch, but he knew that wasn't what the Guardian of Wonder meant. It shocked him how much he cared about the brat.

It must bother the others too, somewhat. He could tell Tooth was concerned for Jack. North's concern was a little less obvious, but Bunny knew it was there. Sandy seemed to be the least concerned. The little man even gave Bunny a thumbs-up and a series of gestures trying to convince him everything was okay. Of all the Guardians, he felt like Sandy should be the one most concerned. Pitch had practically killed the Guardian of Dreams, after all.

"However, there is concern in India. Some guys we haven't seen in many a year think they've seen signs . . .," North went into detail, talking to Sandy about it. Bunny sat back and tried to listen, but his mind was elsewhere.

"You okay?" Tooth asked him.

"Yeah, just . . . I'm just worried."

"Don't be. I think Jack can handle himself."

"Hm."

"Have you seen Sophie?"

Bunny smiled. "Yeah, I've visited the ankle biter. Forgot how fun it was to see the kids."

"Yeah. It is fun."

"You're right, Sandy. The concern can't be too serious. No real sightings after all." North turned to the others after finishing his spiel with the Sandman. "Any thoughts?" Tooth shook her head. Bunny kept his thoughts to himself, because he truly didn't think they needed to hear about how much he wanted to send Pitch Black so deep into the earth that the Boogeyman could never reemerge. "Alright. I guess there's nothing else. Everything running fine?"

The others continued talking. Bunny felt the sourness in his mouth get worse, and he wanted nothing more than to believe that they were right. He wanted to believe that Jack was safe. But how safe could a Guardian be in the lair of the Nightmare King? He really wished he could put a name to this aggression that he felt towards Pitch, because he'd given up on thinking that it only had something to do with the bastard having attempted world domination.

June in the Lair

Pitch could learn a lot about someone if he spent enough time watching them, and he had a month to observe Jack.

While Jack was blinded by Pitch's shadows, the Boogeyman found ways to entertain himself by playing around with the boy's buttons. By the second day, he was able to touch Jack without the boy jumping out of his skin. He already knew Jack had a secret affinity for pain. The young Guardian reacted most to Pitch's teeth and talons. The Nightmare King did discover that Jack was quite cuddly, and laughed when Jack threatened Pitch into promising that he wouldn't talk about the way Jack snuggled closer to him in his sleep. Not that he'd slept much. Pitch made sure of that.

By the time Jack removed the blindfold, he really could see better in the dark. As Pitch had predicted, it certainly did make things easier for him in the lair. Jack also became less fun to torment because he now had an easier time spotting Pitch lurking in the shadows before the Nightmare King could make him jump in surprise. He was thankful that his eyes would readjust to the light once he actually left Pitch's lair. For now Pitch had many other games he could play, and Jack probably wouldn't like most of them. However, Pitch was positive that Jack would enjoy them in his own way nonetheless.

Of course, the boy was at first uncooperative over the blindfold. Obviously he learned to take advantage of his newfound ability to see in the shadows. He was altogether unpleasant when Pitch hid his hoodie and staff. Pitch at least let him have his pants. Having Jack Frost walking around his lair completely nude would've led to Pitch being distracted by only one of Jack's many pleasant assets.

One of the things Pitch found interesting about Jack was how ticklish he was. It was ridiculous, really. He'd managed to sneak up behind the boy and grab his waist, only to have him double over in a fit of giggles. To confirm his new observation, he continued poking Jack in various regions of his body. True enough, he was outrageously ticklish. The knowledge actually made him smile. When Jack started to try tickling back, though, Pitch got accused of dancing his way out of the situation.

Save for the Guardian's love of pranks, Jack was rather easy to please and to be around. He enjoyed simple things, like conversation and small touches that didn't necessarily have to turn into anything serious. These simple pleasures reminded Pitch a lot of himself. After being alone for so long, contact of any sort with another being really meant something.

Jack was also less scared of Pitch's Nightmares now that he was going steady with their king. Pitch caught him talking to one at some point. The Nightmare seemed confused at Jack's fearless approach, but eventually took to him. Pitch was almost jealous. Almost. He was more impressed than anything else.

Though he'd learned much about the Guardian in that time (Jack would rather laugh off his embarrassment at a situation than admit to blushing, his leg tended to twitch when he was bored, he liked holding hands but he felt he was awkward at it and didn't try it often, and he absolutely melted when Pitch kissed the area on his spine between the back of his neck and shoulder blades), Jack still managed to astonish him at times. He didn't even have to try. He was just being his mischievous self when Pitch found himself fascinated by the boy's actions. The most notable moment was when he approached Pitch after catching him in the shadows again and wrapped his arms around him randomly.

"What are you doing?" Pitch asked.

"What, I can't hug you now?"

"Yes you can, but—?" He stopped talking when Jack slid into the folds of Pitch's robe and proceeded to burrow into the dark fabric. Pitch's spine straightened and stiffened as he felt Jack against his bare back under the coat. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I kind of always wondered," Jack said, voice muffled by the black cloth, "what you kept in your coat. You don't wear a shirt, which is weird to me, and your weapons are shadows."

"As I recall, you only wear a hoodie yourself. What exactly do you expect to find in there? That's certainly not where I keep my armies." Pitch gritted his teeth against the way Jack's hair prickled his back. The chill of Jack's skin felt good against his perpetual heat. Jack's cool breath on his spine sent a shiver through him.

He didn't think it was possible for his back to straighten any further, but he was proven wrong when Jack bit Pitch's shoulder blade. A growl rolled from his chest to his throat, and he could actually feel Jack smiling as his teeth clutched the gray skin. Then the boy said, "If only I could find more ways to get you to growl like that."

"Hmm." Pitch smiled, slipping his coat off one shoulder and turning to face Jack. For no good reason, he placed the coat on Jack's shoulders. The robe was so much longer than the boy himself, making a smile tug at Pitch's lips. The young Guardian giggled at him as Pitch pulled him closer. So his precious Jack was studying him as well. The thought made Pitch delirious. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"I did figure out where you put my things though."

"Did you, now? I'm surprised you haven't donned them."

"Well, what's the fun in that?"

"I suppose I'll just have to hide them again, then."

"I already hid them. In case I need them. I probably won't with you around."

"What, from me? You think I can't find your things in my own lair?"

With that, he lifted Jack off the ground and had the boy's legs wrapped around Pitch's waist in seconds. The coat slipped off Jack's shoulders and rested on the ground at Pitch's feet. Jack clutched Pitch's shoulders, a short chuckle escaping his lips as he blushed. Pitch's smile widened, brushing the Guardian's frozen cheek with the backs of his knuckles while he held Jack up with the other arm. Jack whispered, "You kill me with this kind of thing."

"I can assure you I don't mean to do that. In a literal sense, at least. Maybe in a more literary fashion."

"What?"

"Let's see, what is the literal translation of the word orgasm?"

"Please don't tell me—."

"Little death."

"Probably should've guessed that based on your ways of thinking." Jack rested his forehead against Pitch's, and an impish smile caught Pitch's eye. "You probably know too much about me by now."

"Enough to warrant you keeping me around. Are we even now?"

"Almost."

"What more could you possibly want to know?"

"If," Jack ran his hands down Pitch's chest to his stomach, "you're ticklish."

Pitch would never admit just how loud he shouted when Jack's fingers assaulted his stomach. He tried to get his hands on the boy, but for once he was moving too fast for Pitch to catch. He was practically climbing over and around Pitch. "What are you, a spider monkey?" He was suppressing shouts, his whole body tensing against Jack's assaults.

"Laugh, dammit!" Jack responded, laughing himself.

"No!" Pitch fought the smile, fought the chuckles that were begging for release. "Don't make me bind you!"

"Just one little laugh for me!" He was absolutely relentless, and Pitch hissed out a giggle just to get him to stop. He shook uncontrollably as he struggled to contain himself. "Awww, you're cute when you're trying not to laugh."

"Cute?" Pitch flipped Jack over his shoulder and got him off his back. Dropping to his knees he, pressed the boy into the stone floor, the robe cushioning Jack's landing. "You call the Nightmare King cute?"

"What's the matter? The word not good enough for you?" Jack smiled up at him, watching Pitch struggle to regain control.

Their chests were pressed together, their faces inches apart. Pitch tried hard to glare down at the boy. "Shouldn't you be a bit more frightened when I'm cross with you?"

"You know, being stuck with you for almost a month means I've gotten to know you about as much as you've gotten to know me, which means I've noticed a few things. Like how you're not as scary when you're showing your feelings as you are when you're stoic and cold."

"You really do know too much."

"And my back could use another masterpiece."

Oh yes, Pitch had learned many things about Jack Frost whilst keeping him to himself. One of the things he liked most about his dearest friend (and he really was starting to think of him as such) was his ability to keep surprising the Boogeyman.

"Don't touch what is mine"

"I should've been there sooner! None of this would've—."

"Stop, Tooth." Bunny took the fairy's hand. "Blaming yourself isn't going to make this any easier."

The two hugged, Tooth's eyes still tearing up as they turned to look through the cracked open door of one of North's spare bedrooms. There, on the bed, lay Jack Frost. The winter spirit was unconscious, his body bruised, torn, and broken. They'd had to remove his hoodie and toss it to the side. To say it had been shredded wouldn't have been too far from the truth. It lay in tatters next to his broken staff.

Jack and Tooth had agreed to investigate some mysterious activity in India, which the Guardians had talked about at a meeting that Jack had had to miss. Once he was free from his 'hiatus,' he thought looking into the complaints North had mentioned would be a good idea. Tooth agreed to meet him. When she'd arrived, however, Jack was nowhere to be found. She had known he would be punctual. Heck, she was surprised at how often the perpetual teen was on time or early for meetings. So she scoured the area with some of her fairies, sure that he couldn't be too far. She hadn't been too worried. Maybe he'd found a game to play. That was just like Jack.

When she found him, though, she hadn't even recognized him. He had been beaten so severely that she didn't think it were possible for him to survive. But still he breathed. She was at least grateful for that. She'd gotten Bunny's help to get him to North's shop, afraid that she wouldn't be able to protect him on her own. Surely whatever had attacked him was still around.

Now they watched, waiting for the youngest Guardian to awaken. He still hadn't, and Bunny was starting to look about as anxious as Tooth felt. How could she have let this happen to him? Even though Bunny had told her not to feel guilty, she couldn't help it. Her guilt and unanswered questions only made things worse. Jack wasn't easily overwhelmed. He was a strong fighter and they all knew that. The only thing capable of doing such damage the Guardians had encountered recently was Jack's significant other. Surely Pitch wasn't foolish enough to try something like this. Tooth locked eyes with Bunny again, and she could almost see the fury in his eyes. He was thinking the same thing. Somehow, she knew he was suspicious of their old foe.

When their attention turned back to the room, a sudden surge of darkness caught their attention. The lights seemed dimmer, and something black hovered over Jack. It was an amorphous figure, indistinguishable and not entirely human yet, but Bunny and Tooth knew who it was and moved into the room anyways. Bunny pulled a boomerang from its holster, bracing himself. Tooth felt her feathers ruffle at the very presence of the Nightmare King.

"You're not supposed to be here, Pitch," Bunny snarled. "Leave."

"Who did this?" His voice filled the room, echoing and sending shivers through them. The voice was monotone. It was low and surprisingly devoid of emotion. But when he manifested before them, creating a formidable barrier between them and the helpless boy on the bed, Tooth and Bunny shrank away. Pitch's eyes seemed to be nothing but amber flames set in a serious, ashen, almost coal-black face. The whole of his body was rigid, the shadows made him appear even taller than he really was, and the only part of his body they could see moving were his hands, fingers twitching as if longing for a throat the squeeze. In fact, Tooth was fairly sure that was what Pitch was thinking.

"We don't know, and our only suspect is right in front of us," Bunny antagonized, unwilling to cower before the Nightmare King.

Tooth could see that Bunny regretted his words as soon as he said them, though. Before either Guardian could speak again, shadows surged throughout the room, slamming shut the door and windows and drowning out the light as Pitch leaned forward and downward, making a show of how he had to work to meet them at eye level. "I want to know who did this, and I want to know now." His fangs flashed, his voice unwavering.

"Threatening the only people who found him isn't the best way to go, mate." Bunny's venom was going to get him killed. The tension in the room thickened and the shadows seemed more alive than ever, and the Guardians became aware of the hissing and snarling coming from the darkness. Pitch's eyes only grew more molten, and they could see him bare his teeth now.

Tooth positioned herself between the two men, seeing this was going to get them nowhere. "We found nothing. We searched the area, and there wasn't a single sign of a struggle—."

"Tooth, what are you—?"

"Let me handle this, Bunny." She faced the darkness and the glowing eyes and fangs that were all she could see of Pitch now. "Jack is a very capable fighter. Whatever got him must have surprised him and made quick work of him before running. I don't think they expected anyone to find him, and left him for dead."

"You found him like this," Pitch stated. The first sign of emotion bled into his voice and Tooth knew, almost intuitively, that no matter how suspicious Bunny was of Pitch that the Boogeyman couldn't have done this to Jack.

"I was supposed to meet him there. If you want someone to blame—."

"Tooth, don't—."

"Bunny, leave." The Guardian of Hope hesitated. She turned to him, hoping he knew that she was trying to reassure him. It was hard to see in Pitch's shadows. He obeyed, though. He fumbled for the door for a bit before Pitch retracted his shadows, allowing Bunny to find his way out. The light almost blinded them as he exited the room. Tooth turned back to Pitch once more. "If you want someone to blame, blame me. I could've saved him."

Pitch withdrew his shadows completely, then, returning to his true height and looking about as normal as Pitch Black can. It was then that she saw the emotion in him she had sensed earlier. The pain in his expression was heart wrenching. She had never once put serious thought into the human expression 'sympathize with the devil.' Now, she did. He appeared drained from his display of power, but most of all he appeared in agony. His hands still twitched, but his head hung low. He almost looked broken. She'd only seen him like this once, and that was when he'd been so severely defeated by the Guardians that he'd been dragged back to his lair by his own creations. He interrupted her thoughts when he said, "You aren't the only one responsible for him."

His voice sounded just as broken as he appeared. He turned away, gazing down at Jack. The boy still lay unconscious, completely unaware of what had just transpired. Tooth felt a pain in her own chest as she watched Pitch kneel by the bed and gently take Jack's face into his hands. Pitch stared down at Jack like he was the most precious thing in the world to him, and that tore Tooth apart. It further ensured that there was no way Pitch had anything to do with the attack.

Pitch closed his eyes, touching his forehead to Jack's for a brief moment. Then he started to survey the damage. He looked as if he were searching for something.

"Do you want to see what we did find?" Tooth asked.

"In a minute," Pitch answered so softly, it was almost inaudible. He was touching Jack's wrist, focusing on the arm that wasn't currently in a sling. "He panicked."

"What?" Tooth watched as Pitch examined the other wrist, careful not to disturb the sling.

"He panicked. They held him down, and he panicked." By the end of the sentence, he was speaking through gritted teeth. He motioned for her to come closer and see what he was seeing. She hesitated, but obeyed. He gestured to the deep purple bruises on his wrists. His fingers were twitching wildly. "Somehow they figured out that restraining him by his wrists would render him defenseless."

"Wouldn't that make just about anyone defenseless?"

"Yes, but not quite like this." Tooth watched as Pitch ran his hand through Jack's white hair, his sadness deepening. The movement was so tender that she actually had to remind herself that she was conversing with the Nightmare King, her enemy. She was sitting beside him discussing what had happened to her fellow Guardian. This experience was altogether surreal. Then he said, "You were right. They surprised him."

"How do you know?"

"No sign of a struggle, you said. Jack is more observant than we take him for. He would've seen his assailant coming and retaliated. They must have caught him when he was most vulnerable—."

"He was asleep—."

"Precisely! They grabbed his wrists and then . . .," he couldn't finish. The agony in his expression increased tenfold. Tooth watched as he cradled Jack's face in his hands once more and squeezed his eyes shut, as if willing the boy to wake up and look at him. He shook his head. "You just don't listen . . .," his voice trailed off again and she knew he was talking to Jack.

Tooth felt uncomfortable. Seeing Pitch like this was beyond comprehension. It defied logic. How could he have grown so attached to Jack in so short a time. A couple of months were nothing to immortals. The fact that Pitch cared this deeply about a winter spirit who'd once helped defeat him . . . even Tooth couldn't fathom this. She felt the need to redirect his attention somehow, but the only thing she could come up with was to talk more about Jack. "Why would he panic more about someone grabbing his wrists?"

Pitch sighed, not looking at her at first. "He has a phobia of restraint." He glared at her then. "You think I'm not aware of what he fears?"

"I wasn't suggesting you didn't. If anything, I'm the one who doesn't know," she reasoned.

He seemed to accept that. In one fluid motion, he stood. She followed suit, noting the subtle changes in his posture from tense to an almost feigned relaxed. His face was devoid of emotion now, but in a way that made Tooth think he was trying too hard to hide his feelings and seem calm. "What else is there to see?" She flew to Jack's torn hoodie and broken staff, bringing the items back to Pitch to investigate. The sadness in his eyes returned, but she saw him brush the feeling aside as quickly as it had appeared. He looked at the pieces of the staff first, like it reminded him of something painful from the past. He handed them back to her, examining the tattered hoodie more carefully. "They didn't have claws. They had to work to tear this."

"Knives?"

"You would see knife marks on him if they used them." He looked at Jack's wounds again, then back down at the blue fabric. She could almost hear his brain at work. "As it stands, they just used their bare hands and nails. No other weapons. No talons."

He turned the fabric over in his hands, and it was then that she spotted something she hadn't seen before. Reaching for it, she landed, feeling her body begin to freeze out of shock as her feet touched the ground. "No . . . ." She couldn't believe it. She pulled from the ruined sweatshirt the smallest clump of reddish hair, staring at it in recognition.

Pitch dropped the hoodie, glaring down at what she had found. "I thought you had eradicated them."

"So did I," Tooth whispered, not sure if she believed what she was seeing, touching with her own fingers. "This isn't possible."

"My return was supposedly impossible as well," he remarked.

She looked up at him, knowing he was right. "I have to take care of this."

"No offense, twit, but you are not the warrior you once were. Years of passivity have weakened you, and you cannot fight them alone."

"And you can?" They glared at each other. She knew his expression was fiercer than hers, but still she returned the look.

"I intend to."

"What do you expect me to do while you avenge one of my own?" Her tone was searing, but Pitch paid no heed to the acerbity that Bunny would've been proud of had he heard it.

"I expect you to do your job, just as I will do mine." Pitch turned to look at Jack one last time. "You're a Guardian. Guard him."

Tooth watched him run his hand through Jack's hair again. As Pitch prepared to depart into the shadows, she said, "Wait. One thing." He waited, but didn't look at her. "Bring me evidence that you finished them."

He didn't respond. She blinked, and the room was empty of the Nightmare King once more.

Tracking down monkeys was easy. Tracking humans was even easier. They were practically everywhere. One would think that tracking down a human-monkey hybrid would prove even simpler, but alas it was not. And Pitch had sent out his entire army of Nightmares and shadows in search of the abominations who had dared touch what belonged to him.

It took only a few days of searching. However, those days felt like an eternity to him. Nights had never passed so slowly for Pitch before. The entire time, he sat still on his throne, a throne he rarely ever utilized. It felt useless to sit on it, and he only had it for appearance purposes. Once he had caught Jack resting on it, his long, pale legs thrown over the arms of the metal monstrosity.

The very thought of Jack would bring Pitch's rage back to its highest boiling point, and he wondered how long he'd have to wait for his creations to bring the damned fiends to him. His patience wore thin entirely too easily when he was livid. His fingers twitched, he glared about the lair, but otherwise he did not move. He couldn't. Moving would mean facing the emptiness of his home, the complete and total lack of . . . Jack. How lonely it was now that he didn't have his winter spirit to look forward to seeing. Pitch would visit him, he longed to, but couldn't bear to go near the boy until he'd punished those who'd laid hands on him. Pitch had a job to do, and he was going to savor the chance to lay into the beasts who'd hurt his Jack.

When the creatures were finally captured, there were a mere two. Two monkey men had caught a Guardian by surprise and severely injured him. It still struck him as a little too convenient that they'd discovered Jack had a fear of being held down by the wrists. This smelt of something more sinister than just a small-scale ambush to Pitch.

He finally stood as his Nightmares disposed of the two in one of the larger cages hanging from the ceiling. Pitch disappeared into the shadows, watching the creatures squirm. He smiled, seeing that his creations had not been gentle with the atrocities. A blend of rage and pleasure writhed within him as it registered in his mind that he had Jack's attackers in his grasp. His hands shook, his spine went rigid, and his face twisted in ways he could not control. The most he could do was clench his fists and remain a part of the shadows.

"Are you beasts even capable of speech?" His voice resonated throughout the lair, low and calm. Calmer than he felt. The things slammed their fists against the cage's walls, howling. "I'll take that as a no."

"We speak!" one shouted.

"Ah, good. That'll prolong your life for now." Pitch threw his voice to the other side of the room, relishing in the fear that seeped from the two half men. "It has been many, many years since I've worked with you. Do refresh my memory; is your Monkey King dead?" He had been certain that the twit had taken care of that particular piece of filth. The Monkey King had caused the death of her family and rendered her the last of her kind, after all. That was back when she was a daunting foe. Now she hid behind and army of her miniature selves.

"Many years dead," the same beast answered. He and the other cowered in the cage, facing each other with their backs against the bars. Such delicious fear.

Pitch never grew tired of how delectable fear could be, but he wanted more than fear from these creatures. "That is a relief. I was beginning the think the Guardians had always been completely incompetent and remiss in their duties." Pitch and his shadows circled the cage, eliciting more yowls from the things. "Tell me, do you have a new leader?"

"We know not his name!" the other finally spoke, but he answered too quickly. Pitch allowed them to catch sight of his face then. He greeted them with a grin and flaming eyes, which sent the two crashing away from him, their backs hitting the cage's bars with a clack. Their screams made Pitch's grin widen as he commanded the shadows to pin and secure them to the bars while he entered the cage himself.

"I was hoping you would say something like that." His back was straight as he allowed himself to appear taller. His hands were balled into fists as he kept his body tense but not noticeably so. Now, the grin faded from his face and his eyes burned into them. He knew he looked every bit as terrifying as he had when confronting the twit and the rabbit, his shadows flaring at his sides. The two animals shook, whimpering and utterly pathetic. The fact that such pathetic things had managed to harm a single hair on the youngest Guardian's head only served to fuel the rage coiling within Pitch Black. "Here is the deal. Had you laid a hand on any other Guardian, I wouldn't have blinked. I likely would've encouraged your actions." Pitch reached into his robes, pulling out a set of pliers. "But see, you have injured the one I have grown rather fond of. And I'm afraid neither of you will leave this lair alive, but the journey to death can be made quick and easy should you choose to cooperate." Pitch nodded his head, commanding another set of shadows to pry open the creatures' mouths. He turned the pliers about in his hand, making sure they were strong enough for what he was about to do. "Dearest Jack has taught me the importance of having fun. And we're going to have a little fun now. The first to tell me what I need to know will be killed swiftly. No catch. No additional pain. If all you intend to do is scream and suffer, which would be ill-advised but I will oblige you nonetheless, I will be forced to make your death as slow and painful as I know how." He raised the pliers, stepping forward. "Let's start with you."

Bunny and Tooth sat outside Jack's door. He still hadn't woken up. The Guardians weren't entirely sure that he would. Bunny hadn't slept, and he knew Tooth hadn't either. He wasn't sure Tooth had left her post outside Jack's room since Pitch had shown his face. North had kept busy. It was the only thing the Guardian of Wonder could do to keep from showing just how deep his concern ran. Sandy visited, sprinkling dreamsand over Jack's eyes in hopes that at least he could ease the boy's mind. Jack never reacted. No golden shapes appeared above his unconscious body. This, more than anything, worried the Guardians.

When he had been sure no one was looking, Bunny had snuck into the room and held Jack's hand. He prayed the boy could hear him talk to him. He told him how everyone was doing. He told him how much they all missed him. He told him about Sophie and Jamie, both of whom asked about him. He told him what Pitch was up to, though he loathed doing so. Somehow he figured he could endure relaying messages about the Boogeyman if it meant Jack could hear him.

He never told Jack how much he missed him though.

Bunny's thoughts were disturbed when a shadow loomed over him and Tooth. He braced himself at the sight of Pitch, then forced his body to relax. The Nightmare King ignored him completely as he looked at Tooth. She flew up to meet him at eye level as he handed her a black leather pouch.

"Your evidence," the Boogeyman muttered. His face and voice was completely devoid of emotion. He seemed weary to Bunny.

Tooth opened the pouch and reached in. Bunny fought back bile as he watched her pull out a handful of bloody adult teeth with gums still stuck to them. They obviously weren't human teeth, but nor were they completely monkey. While Bunny felt ill, unwilling to ask how Pitch had gone about acquiring the teeth, Tooth didn't so much as flinch. Her face hardened at the sight, and her eyes burned in such a way that reminded Bunny of old battles from centuries before. Back when the Guardians were first getting started and they had actually seen what war amongst the immortals could really be like. Semi-secure times such as these had not completely rid the Guardians of those memories, but they had not completely softened them either. Right now, Bunny was looking at the old Toothiana, the one who once wielded twin swords and waged war against those who bore ill will towards her and her charges.

"Sixty-four?" she asked Pitch, dropping the teeth back into the pouch. The Nightmare King nodded. She nodded in return, acknowledging what he'd done. Then she maneuvered out of his way, allowing him to enter the room.

Bunny wanted to protest, but didn't. He just watched as Pitch walked slowly towards the bed. Bunny then watched as Pitch knelt on the ground and took Jack's hand into both of his. The Guardian of Hope couldn't believe what he was seeing. He couldn't believe he was bearing witness to the Nightmare King pressing Jack's hand to his gray cheek while smoothing out the lines on Jack's forehead with his thumb. He felt like he was intruding on something private even though he was watching his enemy press a kiss into the palm of his comatose companion. This should infuriate the rabbit. Instead, for the first time, he felt okay. He wasn't glad. He wasn't relieved. He was simply content. Even though it was evidence of a finished job he'd brought Tooth, this evidence was far more important to Bunny: Jack was safe with the Boogeyman.

Tooth touched Bunny's shoulder, indicating that they should go. He nodded without hesitation. When Jack woke up, if he woke up, he would be in the presence of someone who would take care of him. That was all that mattered to Bunny. It no longer mattered who that someone was.

"Wake up"

Pitch hadn't gotten a name from the monkey men, but he did know that their leader did not mean well for the rest of the world. From the way they had made it sound, this new enemy was ancient and had it out for those who could potentially get in his way. That meant no Guardian, chosen or not, was safe. And while Pitch wouldn't bat an eye at the loss of one such as the rabbit, Jack was another story entirely.

The boy still hadn't woken up. Pitch had stopped counting the days. Time seemed frozen in the north.

There was a belief among humans that if one watched a pot of water while waiting for it to boil, it would take longer. While this seemed completely improbable in Pitch's mind, it very clearly described how he felt. He hid under Jack's bed, finding comfort in the darkness. He waited, desperate to hear the young Guardian's voice. Every now and then, he would emerge from his hiding place and check the progress of Jack's wounds. The bruises were fading slowly. The scratches weren't quite as angry and raw. He didn't know if the bones were mending, and he didn't know how to check without further harming the boy. Jack's breathing was even. Too even. Too even and too light. Pitch swore that the boy was getting warmer every day. Warmth in a winter spirit was never a good sign.

He very rarely left Jack unattended. He very rarely left Jack at all. Now that he'd dealt with the perpetrators, he felt useless. He felt immobile. The most he felt capable of doing was fetch rags drenched in freezing water that numbed even his hands and try to stave the heat from growing on the boy's body. Pitch thought he'd known what fear was. He thought he'd banished this sort of fear from his mind. But no. It was swelling within him at a rate he could not control. It hurt.

Sometimes one of the other Guardians would show up. They knew Pitch was there, hiding in the shadows. They'd simply grown used to him hovering around the boy. It had taken them long enough. None of them spoke to him. Pitch liked it that way. They each had their own ways of dealing with the pain and fear. Their fear was a small source of nourishment for Pitch, but the reason for the fear was almost sickening to him. Sanderson would sprinkle sand in Jack's eyes. The Cossack would leave confections on a side table. The twit would cease the endless hovering and actually sit in a chair for a short period of time, checking the bandages and adjusting the sling. The rabbit was the worst. He would just stare at the youngest Guardian, trying his hardest to hold in what he was feeling. Pitch hated that he could see through the façade. Knowing what the rabbit was feeling was almost as bad as reliving an agony he had tried very hard to forget he'd known.

He wished that he'd kept better tabs on Jack. After having the Guardian all to himself for a month, he'd thought the boy could use some space. Pitch was possessive, but he didn't want Jack to feel smothered. Somehow he'd known something wasn't right. It wasn't because Jack hadn't visited. It wasn't because Jack had disappeared for long. The attack had occurred within a week of Jack's release from the lair. Pitch had just known. Something had simply felt wrong, and he couldn't put his finger on it. He could almost feel Jack's absence from the world, and the first place he thought to check was the Workshop. It had been a big risk for the Boogeyman to appear in his enemy's quarters, but he'd done it before. He would gladly do it again.

The sight of Jack had been gut-wrenching. Pitch felt like someone had walked straight through him, a feeling he'd grown accustomed to again. He corrected himself; he'd felt like several people had walked through him at once.

The thoughts running through Pitch's head made him curl into a ball under Jack's bed. He closed his eyes, cursing himself again for not watching closer. He could easily blame the twit for not finding Jack in time to help him, but he really just wanted to blame himself. He couldn't blame Jack. Jack had simply done what he'd always done: he'd gotten bored and fallen asleep on a branch. He'd never been attacked in that state, and despite Pitch's warnings he likely still didn't expect to be attacked. Blaming anyone besides himself seemed inadequate. Ultimately, the Nightmare King had failed to protect what was his.

Pitch was roused from his thoughts when he became aware of Jack's breathing. It was quickening, turning into short gasps. Then there was a scream. Pitch moved faster than he'd ever thought possible. Jack's back was arched, his whole body tense as he screamed. Pitch took the boy's face in his hands. "Jack?!" Inside, Pitch was begging him to open his eyes. Pitch frantically needed to see Jack's blue eyes and know that he was actually awake and alive. "Jack, listen to me. You need to wake up!" He hadn't given him any nightmares. Pitch had made damn sure that Jack had no nightmares while stuck in oblivion. What was he seeing? He wanted so badly to know, but couldn't. Not when he wasn't the one creating this. "Jack, please!" Pitch tried to forget about the last time he'd begged like this. He tried, but was quickly failing. By now, Jack wasn't screaming, but his body was still tense. His breathing was terribly shallow, terribly uneven. The gasps frightened Pitch more than the screaming. Admitting to himself that this scared him only made the burgeoning horror within him worse. "Jack Frost, you wake up this instant!"

Jack sat bolt upright, almost hitting Pitch as he did so. His eyes shot open, and were the widest Pitch had ever seen them. He was shaking, small sounds of panic escaping his lips. Pitch's shoulders sagged at the sight of Jack sitting up and awake. The fear melted inside him, replaced with an overwhelming sense of relief. He wanted to grab the boy and shake him for all this situation had done to the Boogeyman. At the same time, he just wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

When Jack's eyes found Pitch's, Pitch could see the tears freezing in Jack's eyes. In one swift movement, Pitch was sitting on the bed with Jack pressed against his chest, the Guardian's unbroken hand gripping the Nightmare King's robes as he buried his face in Pitch's neck. His whole body racked with the sobs, Pitch holding him as tightly as he dared. "I can still feel them," the boy managed past the cries. "I still feel—."

"It's okay, Jack."

"—their hands—."

"I've got you now."

"—holding me down."

"They won't touch you again." Pitch had made sure of that.

"Make it stop!" Jack begged, sobs coming harder now. Pitch squeezed his eyes shut as Jack managed to pull him even closer. He buried his nose and lips against Jack's white hair, inhaling as much of the boy's scent as he could. He was alive. He was alive, but horribly broken.

And this tore Pitch Black in two.

Sanderson and the Cossack entered the room, then. The relief on their faces at seeing Jack awake dissolved when they saw the state he was in. For the first time Pitch was aware of how he must have looked to them, a monster desperately clinging to a boy he had no business being attached to. He met their surprised gazes, but soon discovered how little he really cared about what they thought of him. He hadn't noticed before, and even now that he had he really couldn't bother to give a damn. He simply readjusted his hold on Jack so that he was holding the boy more comfortably and still closer to him. Closing his eyes and resting his chin on the top of Jack's head, he didn't see the others leave. There was only Jack. Just Jack.

And the desire to resurrect the bastards who'd hurt him and kill them all over again.

Precious and Fragile Things

Since waking up, Jack felt like he was lost between terrified to close his eyes and terrified to open them. He feared moving, and so hadn't left the bed even when he knew his legs were good and well. Sometimes, if he kept his eyes closed for too long, he felt himself being grabbed up by rough fingers again. If he left his eyes open for too long, though, he started picking apart his environment to the point that he made everything into a potential peril. Every breath of air felt like it was going to be his last, every touch felt threatening, and every shadow seemed suspect. The only real protection he felt he had against the shadows stemmed from the constant presence of the Nightmare King. While still technically an enemy to the Guardians, he was currently Jack's greatest ally and the source of Jack's comfort. At this point, Jack stopped questioning whether he really should put his faith in Pitch. He just did, and that was that. If the Boogeyman harbored any lasting grudges against Jack that should surface, he had had every opportunity to act on them. Being the embodiment of fear, he could have exploited Jack's current situation very easily. Instead, he was trying to drive away the fear and ease the young Guardian's pain. For that, Jack was more than grateful.

His ever-present Boogeyman never left. He was always in the room, silently watching or guarding Jack. Even with the other Guardians coming in and out to check on him, Pitch never left. The Guardians seemed to have grown tolerant of their enemy's constant hovering, which made Jack feel a bit better about the situation. Even Bunny was enduring.

Jack honestly didn't know how he would have faired without his Nightmare King.

Once awake, Jack healed quicker, though not as quick as he would have if his powers were completely intact. The damage done to his staff greatly affected the rate at which he was getting better, and he'd shown no interest in repairing the crook. Pitch remained a fixture in the room, a sentinel over Jack's recovery. Now that Jack was awake, he spent less time under the bed and more time by the boy's side. Jack never slept. This was starting to trouble the Guardians, who felt rest was essential to Jack's recovery. Pitch knew, however, what kept the youngest member of the group awake: nightmares. Nightmares that Pitch couldn't protect him against. The mind never ceased to amaze Pitch, how it could create its own prison where the prisoner is also the warden. It truly interested Pitch, but at the same time confounded and infuriated him. Penetrating Jack's mind had never been so tempting, but he wouldn't. On some levels, it was possible that he couldn't even if he wanted to.

The twit had arrived to remove Jack's arm from its sling. This was the final noticeable wound from the attack. All other scratches, bruises, and blemishes had either scabbed over or disappeared completely. Jack bore few scars. Physically, at least.

His forearm was completely wrapped in bandages. Since Pitch had spent most of his time under the boy's bed, he hadn't disturbed or seen the twit's medical handiwork. When she removed the gauze on his still broken arm, Pitch had to clench his fists and grit his teeth. He steeled his facial expression to the point that he could feel every muscle in his body freeze. The boy's arm was covered with dark red, deep incisions where one of the beasts had bitten and shaken him so hard that that very well may have been the reason for his arm having broken. The scenario played in Pitch's mind involuntarily, imagining the strength behind the bite force, the beast shaking its head as its teeth sank further into the pale flesh, the motion helping in the creature's attempt to better grip the arm in its filthy mouth, the bruises that must have formed as a result of them holding Jack down to effectively render the limb useless, the boy's throat going raw from screaming . . . .

Pitch became aware of the speed at which he was breathing, his nostrils flaring as he willed himself to stop thinking about it. He looked at Jack's face, noting how the boy watched every move the twit made. To her credit, she wasn't flitting about at the speed of light. She was keeping herself slow and composed, making it easier for him to follow her actions. She knew the importance of that. That impressed Pitch on some level.

Cleaning the wound was easy, though. Wrapping it proved a challenge. Pitch watched as panic snapped to life on Jack's face as soon as the twit moved to tighten the gauze on Jack's arm. The winter spirit would've yanked his arm from her if he'd had the strength to do so. The pain kept him firmly planted in the corner, shaking immensely and breathing rapidly at the sensation of something tightening around his flesh. Before Pitch knew what he was doing, he reached for the gauze in the twit's hand. He wasn't surprised when she jumped at his approach. One could only get so used to an enemy lurking about.

"May I?" He supposed asking first may have been a better tactic. It might've saved the bird a heart attack, but since when did he care for her well-being? Jack was who he was concerned for, and the boy was cowering on a bed and unable to properly defend himself.

"Of course."

She handed the bandaging to him hesitantly, watching carefully as he got closer to Jack. The boy's eyes were wide with fright as Pitch gently loosened the loops the twit had already made on his forearm. Pitch ignored the bird's watchful gaze as he made eye contact with Jack. "Do you trust me?" he whispered so that only Jack could hear.

The boy gulped, trying to regain some semblance of composure. When he nodded, Pitch offered him a small smile, the slightest quirk of the lips so that the twit wouldn't notice too readily what the exchange had been. The boy relaxed a little more as Pitch slowly and gently wrapped the wound, the bandage snug but not tight enough to cause the boy to panic. When Pitch was finished, he moved aside once more so the bird could continue her work.

The first time Jack fell asleep since waking, he woke up sweating after a bad dream. He'd simply been too exhausted to continue without rest, and trying to appear healthier than he felt in front of the Guardians was a challenge. Now he was paying for the façade. He wanted to scream, tucking his uninjured hand against his chest as he tried scooting further from the edge of the bed. His heart sped up even more when his back pressed against a warm body. He tensed, fighting the lump in his throat preventing his voice from functioning as it should. When the body shifted to accommodate Jack's movement, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Pitch. Jack tried to calm down, settling against the Boogeyman's warmth as a gray hand rested tentatively on his bare waist.

"Sorry," Jack murmured.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I'm panicking at everything."

"If you weren't, I'd be even more concerned for your health."

Jack wanted to smile at that, but had found it harder to seem happy when there was so much to be afraid of. He wanted to close his eyes so that he wouldn't have to inspect every inch of the room for danger, but the only thing worse was confronting the images in his head. He didn't want to remember the attack. Remembering it was too painful, and he wasn't ready to relive the incident. He wasn't strong enough.

Pitch's warmth was helping, though. Jack touched the hand resting on his waist and pulled it around him, lacing his pale fingers through the long, dark ones. Pitch pulled him closer, humming a little against the back of Jack's head. Jack sighed again, daring to let his eyes shut as he drew comfort from having the Nightmare King at his back. He felt safer this way. He felt protected.

"I don't like seeing their faces," Jack admitted. "You would think knowing who did this to me would make this easier. It doesn't. It just gives me something to fear." Pitch breathed against his hair, his fingers twitching just the slightest bit between Jack's own. Jack knew that feeling a little too well. "What are you thinking?" The Boogeyman didn't answer. "More to the point, what have you done?"

Pitch sighed. "If I told you that you need not fear encountering those things again, would that ease your mind?"

"You didn't . . . ."

"What did you think I was going to do while you were unconscious?"

"How?"

Pitch thought for several seconds before he answered. "They bled to death."

Coming from Pitch Black, that could mean the perpetrators died any number of ways. Jack thought it best not to ask. "And the Guardians know?"

"The twit condoned it."

"You mean Tooth?" This surprised Jack more than the fact that Pitch had killed for him.

"She harbors an old grudge against your attackers. They stole from her something most precious to her. They almost succeeded in doing the same to me, and I wasn't going to let them live after that."

Jack rolled over slowly, paranoid even though his injuries had almost completely healed. He scooted up on the bed so that he was facing Pitch. "I'm precious to you?"

"I just told you I killed two individuals with the permission and support of your goody-two-shoes friends, and that's what you take from it?" Before Jack knew what was happening, he chuckled at Pitch. The sensation almost felt foreign to him because he hadn't felt up to feeling anything resembling mirth after his experience. He wanted to hide it, but the look that passed over Pitch's face rendered him incapable of stopping. "There's my Jack." A large hand crept up and cupped Jack's cheek. The boy neither panicked nor pulled away. "I knew he was in there somewhere."

Jack pressed his face closer to Pitch's palm, still smiling. "You told me once you'd kill any who tried to hurt me. I should've probably guessed that promise extended past the Guardians."

"Probably. It still astounds me that you actually do listen to some of the things I say."

"Used to being ignored, aren't we?" Both seemed saddened by the thought. It was true for both of them. They were more accustomed to being ignored than being paid any sort of attention.

Pitch pressed his forehead to Jack's, closing his eyes briefly. When he spoke, he opened them again. "You realize how closely I'm going to be monitoring your movements from now on?"

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't stalk me at least a little bit."

"I do not stalk."

"Yes you do." The Boogeyman's smile was enough to make Jack kiss him. Pitch was surprised at first, but soon he was pulling Jack closer to him and deepening the kiss. When the two finally came up for air, Jack said, "Not having a shirt reminds me of June. When I'm not too busy being scared of everything that moves, that is."

"I may have to find you a shirt before long. You still know how to tempt me."

"I can honestly say that I'm not trying to tempt you."

"I know. That's what's frustrating me." Pitch and Jack lay entangled in each other for a long while before Pitch spoke again. "I don't like not being the one who makes you scream. I refuse to let this happen again."

Jack thought about what Pitch said for a moment. "I'm not entirely sure how I should take that. You have a weird way of phrasing things, but I think you may have just told me you don't want anyone aside from you scaring me."

"I do hope you take it as me saying I care for you on a level that makes me a threat to anyone who so much as looks at you in a manner that frightens you."

"I would've accepted you simply telling me you care for me. Isn't that easier?"

"No." The sullenness in Pitch's tone made Jack wonder just how hard it really was for the Boogeyman to express his feelings. Some forms of intimacy were easier for him to show. This sort of intimacy was proving difficult for him. In a way, Jack understood. It was hard admitting that you cared. It left one feeling extremely vulnerable and open to attack. Pitch certainly wasn't the sort to feel confident in the face of his own fears, and the Guardians knew Pitch's fears were great enough to warrant him being dragged away by his own kind. Jack pulled him closer, hoping the Nightmare King knew that Jack understood his answer. Pitch returned the embrace. Then he changed the subject. "I will have to withhold on making you scream."

"Afraid so. Maybe you'll find a new game to torture me with."

"Torture is not the goal. Just a pleasant side effect." The two smiled, holding onto each other. Jack could continue arguing, but he was too busy enjoying Pitch's warmth.

This, more than anything, made Jack feel like himself again.

Infected

"What are you doing?" Jack asked Pitch. Pitch was now holding a piece of Jack's crook in each hand, looking at it oddly.

"Trying to figure out how you mended it the last time." The bad dreams still came, but Pitch knew Jack was starting to feel less disconnected from the world. He interacted with the Guardians more, the emotions seeming more genuine. Still, Pitch wasn't sure how whole Jack was without his staff. Many days had passed since Jack's first attempt at getting any sort of rest, and Pitch was concerned about the condition of his arm.

"It took willpower, which I am in short supply of right now."

"I can tell." The wood did not react to Pitch the way it would've if intact. He remembered how the staff had become laced with shadow instead of frost the day he'd broken it. That day in Antarctica. Not a pleasant day to recall, but he tended to remember small details in spite of himself. "I wonder . . . ."

"No. No wondering. I'll fix it when I feel strong enough." His arm was still in a sling. It would be a little longer before Tooth allowed him to discard the thing.

"I wonder if that day will come sooner if the staff is repaired." He looked at Jack, who squinted up at him.

"You have a point." Jack stood slowly, getting out of bed for the first time. He took a few tentative steps to Pitch, then leaned into the taller man. Pitch set the pieces of the staff down on a table to help Jack stay upright. "Walking is harder than I remember." Pitch watched Jack reach for the bottom part of the staff and place it in the hand still trapped by the sling. The arm was weak, and Pitch watched a tremor of pain wash through Jack's body as the boy reached for the top half of the crook. With both pieces in hand, he made an awkward attempt at fitting them together where they had come apart. He focused, and Pitch could feel Jack's powers surging through the boy as if they were alive and sentient. The Guardian closed his eyes, struggling with the ineptness of his limbs and the still difficult positioning of the pieces when the weaker hand began to slip and lose grip on the bottom part of the staff. Pitch caught it before it really did fall out of Jack's hand.

What happened next was nothing but a blur to Pitch. A blur and a kick to the chest. There was a moment when the staff flashed at the intersection, Jack's energy surging through the wood until the frost touched Pitch's hand. After that initial contact, he saw nothing. He only felt. He felt something inside him, something small yet vital sucked out of him. He was sent staggering into the table, bracing himself against all the points of impact before collapsing on his seat. He grabbed at the section on his chest where he felt like a hammer had been brought down on him. He could not feel Jack. Where was Jack?

"Jack—."

"Pitch, what happened?!" The boy's voice came from the other side of the room. Judging from the tone, he'd experienced something similar.

Pitch worked to focus his vision, breathing in deeply in an attempt to settle the hammering in his chest as well as the pain from the kick. "I'm not sure. Shouldn't you know?"

"How should I know?!" the boy sounded hysterical.

"It's your twig!" Pitch fought the blurred vision, fought the emptiness that ghosted through him before the void was filled once more. "I think you took something from me."

"Huh?"

"I think you may have skimmed off some of my power."

"I did WHAT?!"

"Jack, really . . .," Pitch's voice trailed off as he finally focused back on his surroundings and found Jack's face. His eyes widened, and his heart hammered more. "No . . . ."

"Pitch, what is it? What's wrong with me?"

"Jack Frost, how do you feel right now?"

"You said my full name. This can't be good!" The boy was standing, his staff intact and at his feet. He had full use of his previously broken and shredded arm. He was frenzied, but that was not what Pitch was staring at.

"How. Do. You. Feel. Right. Now?" Pitch couldn't have made the question clearer if he tried.

"I—." Jack interrupted himself with a growl as he pulled his hair. "I feel insane! I'm stronger, but my mind—." He growled again, this time louder. "I can't! Something's wrong!"

"Yes. Something is very wrong," Pitch agreed, realization hitting him full force as he briefly acknowledged the darkness the crook now possessed before returning his focus to Jack's face.

Because the boy's irises were turning golden, the sclera of each eye becoming black as pitch while shadows surrounded the eyes themselves. This was not Pitch's Jack, and that actually terrified Pitch.

Up until a few minutes before, Jack Frost was feeling normal. Now, his mind was being assaulted.

The lights. The lights bothered him. He squinted. He covered his eyes. He pulled his hair, but the humming in his head didn't stop. It just kept on going. It wouldn't stop. As if he needed this. As if he needed the humming on top of the faces.

The faces. The faces of the monkey men. His attackers. The perpetrators. They were getting closer. They were relentless. The faces and the humming and the feeling of hands on his wrists wouldn't go away, wouldn't leave him alone, the fear. The fear. The fear. It didn't end. It didn't stop. It couldn't stop. He begged it to stop stop STOP!

The lights. He wanted them off, he wanted them off. He wanted dark. Dark was safe. Dark was familiar. Dark meant Pitch and Pitch meant safe and safe meant he wasn't going to get hurt. This was wrong. This felt so wrong, why did he feel this way? Why was there all this fear but no pain?

The pain had stopped, but the fear remained. Why must it remain? Why couldn't it go away like the pain? Why were the lights so PAINFUL?!

Hands. He felt them on his face, pulling. Where were they pulling? The hands were burning. They burned his skin, they burned his cheeks, but he liked the pain. He liked this pain, this pain was good, this pain meant safe.

These hands were Pitch's. That face was Pitch's. Pitch looked about as scared as he felt. Pitch looked at him. He was looking at him. Pitch saw him. He liked being seen. He liked being seen by Pitch.

And suddenly the humming seemed bearable. The feeling in the rest of his body returned, and he realized his throat was raw. Had he been screaming?

"Listen to me, Jack." That voice. That voice chased away the fears. He loved that voice. "Pay attention. You need to breathe. Deeply. Follow my lead." He obeyed. He had no problem obeying that voice. That voice meant safe. Safe meant no harm would befall him. He breathed. He inhaled and exhaled, slowly and deeply. He matched the rhythm. He followed that voice, watched that face. He loved that face. "Jack, are you in there?"

"I'm yours," he said. They slipped out. The words. The words just slipped out. It was easy. It was honest. It was the truth.

"That's nice, but I want Jack now." That face was worried. Why was it worried? Was it hurting? He touched the face, the lovely face, but everything he touched turned to ice. The face pulled away and looked at his hands. He'd done something wrong. Oh no, he'd done something wrong. "No, no, listen to me. It's okay. We need to relax right now."

The humming ceased completely. A bit of Jack snapped to the forefront. His eyes widened further as he looked into Pitch's anxious eyes. "What's happening to me?" He wasn't panicking. Not like before.

"Jack, good. One of my shadows got inside your staff and now it's infecting you."

"What?! I can't—."

"Listen to me. You can't panic. You have to stay calm. If the Guardians see you like this, we're both dead."

"What?!" Jack clawed at his eyes. "Why are they burning?" He looked up at Pitch in realization. "What's happened to my face?"

"Jack, you don't—."

"What has happened to my face?!" He got up off the floor, moving fast enough that Pitch couldn't catch him. He stalked over to the windowpane, his footsteps leaving patches of ice as he moved. He glimpsed back at where he had been sitting. God, the area was almost completely covered in ice.

There was something wrong with the ice. There was something familiar about it, but very wrong. All of this was wrong. He crawled across the bed, freezing the mattress and its sheets as he made his way to his destination. He looked into the windowpane, trying to figure out what had made Pitch so frightened earlier.

His eyes. They'd changed. He touched the skin. His hand was frozen, but the flesh surrounding his eyes was molten. Oh God, how was he going to explain this?

"Jack, stay calm—."

"Am I going to stay like this? How am I going to keep this a secret if I look like this?!" Jack could feel the hysteria coming back as he turned to face Pitch.

Pitch was standing at the bedside, his movements restricted and his gestures small. There was a distance between him and Jack that for some reason really bothered the winter spirit. "If you calm down, I think you'll go back to normal."

"You think?!"

"It's been a very long time since something like this has happened, Jack. I'm not sure how to fix this anymore." His mind was slipping again. The humming started in Jack's head, making him fall on the bed with his hands covering his face. God, the lights. "Jack, it's okay."

Light yet burning fingers grazed the skin of his wrist, and before he knew it he was flailing. "NO!" The faces. The faces were back. They were back and his wrist was scalding, like they were trying to hold him down again.

Inside, Jack felt lost. Lost in this new him. What was happening to him?

"Jack, it's me." The boy was curled up on the bed in the fetal position, his back to the wall as he hummed to himself. He wasn't calming down. How was Pitch supposed to get him calm? He tentatively placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. When Jack didn't shrink away, he took it as a good sign. "Just breathe. It's okay. I'm here." He wasn't sure if he was trying to tell Jack it was okay. At this point, Pitch felt like he was trying to convince himself. "What have I done?" He'd put both of them in danger, that's what he'd done.

He looked about the partially frozen room. He knew that ice well. The ice was a combination of shadow and frost, a sturdier form of what Jack's powers usually consisted of. The perfect blend of cold and dark. Pitch remembered it better than he'd like to.

Pitch was surprised when the boy uncurled enough to crawl to him, his pale hands clutching Pitch's sides as he nestled under the Boogeyman's arm. Pitch pursed his lips as he felt something within him snap. The boy was shaking so much, one would think his own ice was freezing him. Pitch wrapped his arms around Jack instinctively, though a few seconds ago the boy had been terrified of being touched. "Don't leave me."

"Why would I leave you?" The plea struck Pitch as odd, and it concerned him. Once again, he felt the desire to delve into the boy's mind and figure out what was running through it.

"Just don't. I'm scared. I'm alone."

There were two things that concerned Pitch Black about the Guardian named Jack Frost: his safety and his willingness to put his faith in someone like the Nightmare King. Pitch was well aware of what he was. He was an entity of fear. The embodiment of fear. And trusting fear was helpful, but at the same time detrimental. Both of the major concerns he had for Jack Frost hit him hard at the boy's statement. Pitch had done this to Jack. How was Pitch going to protect Jack from himself?

"I'm sorry." Pitch could count on one hand how many times he'd said those words and meant it. Unfortunately, this was one of those times.

Jack woke up in Pitch's arms. Usually, that would be a pleasant experience. At the moment, though, he felt absolutely drained. Wasn't rest supposed to make him feel . . . rested? If so, this recent rest had failed him utterly.

He opened his eyes, glancing about the room. It was half frozen. Then he remembered what had happened prior to having slumbered. He pulled out of Pitch's embrace to glance at himself in the windowpane. His eyes were back to normal, lids matching the temperature of the rest of his body. The irises were blue, each sclera white. Normal. He looked like Jack Frost. Not the other . . . how was he supposed to refer to the Jack with gold and black eyes?

"Pitch?" he asked, turning back to the Nightmare King. Whatever he was going to say melted on his tongue when he saw the guilty expression on the Boogeyman's face. That expression looked so out of place on Pitch that Jack wanted to scream at him to stop. "Pitch, talk to me. I can't read your mind, and to be frank I probably don't want to."

"Do you realize how serious it is that you have one of my shadows trapped within you?" Pitch wasn't looking at him. Why wasn't Pitch looking at him?

"Serious enough that you and I could get into a shitload of trouble with the other Guardians?" Jack asked. Pitch still refused to look at him. "You can't just suck it out like you did with the black sand?"

"Don't you think I would've tried that if I thought it would work?"

"How do you know it won't?"

"Because of the nature of its entry. It came to you because I helped you mend your staff."

"So break the staff aga—."

"No!" Pitch looked up at him this time. His expression went from guilty to fierce in a matter of seconds.

"I fixed it before. You saw—."

"You will not break your staff again. It could jeopardize your current state of being." Pitch's resolve was showing. He was ready to fight over this, but so was Jack.

"You would rather I have one of your minions swimming around inside of me than try snapping a twig as you called it?"

"Your arm is healed now. Your powers are restored. That was the goal of this endeavor. Break your staff and there's no telling what might happen to you."

"You don't think getting one of your shadows back is worth taking a risk?"

"It is one shadow out of many. I only have one Jack, and he is trying my patience with this self-destructive tactic," Pitch nearly shouted.

Jack was taken aback by Pitch's declaration. "Are you saying you value me over your minion? Minions. Whatever."

"What is wrong with you?" Pitch squinted at him as he said this.

"I'm infected, for one thing." Jack also squinted, but from thinking. "I think that's a song—."

Pitch held up his hands like he was ready to choke the boy. "How do you only respond to a piece of everything I say to you? Are you a selective listener?"

"I heard everything you said. I'm just responding to what I think is important."

"Well, your scale of import is severely impaired!"

"I don't think it is—."

"Jack, listen—."

"No, you listen!" He stood on his knees so he could meet Pitch at eye level. The Boogeyman actually shut up. "So I've got a . . . thing inside of me. You want it out. I want it out. How do we get it out? We snap a stick. That's dangerous in your opinion, and yes! Your opinion matters to me, no matter how ridiculous I find it! So we'll find another way. Until then," he paused, sighing. He reordered his thoughts, figuring out how to say this. "I need . . . I'm going to need your help. I don't know," he sighed again. "I don't know how this thing works, and I don't want to end up turning everything," he gestured to the frozen parts of the room, "into this." He rubbed his forehead, sinking back onto his seat as he did so. Then something struck him. He looked back at Pitch. "Shouldn't you be on board with this whole . . . Jack turning dark thing?"

"That creature wasn't Jack. It was someone else entirely and has the potential to become very, very dangerous. To you, to the people you are close to, even to me." Jack almost jumped when Pitch took his hands into his. "To satisfy your lopsided scale of importance, I do value you over the shadow I had no intention of letting corrupt you."

Pitch almost sounded disgusted with himself for saying that aloud, which only made Jack smile. "Pitch, you killed for me. You think that doesn't clue me in to how much you like me?"

"'Like' is a very light term in this situation. You could've used a better verb."

"So you're an English teacher now?"

"Shut. Up." Pitch punctuated each word as he cupped Jack's face in his hands and pulled him closer to the Nightmare King. Jack's smile widened when Pitch pressed his searing lips to the Guardian's forehead. "Of course I'll help you, you fool."

"Hey, you may come to like this new side of me."

"Are you hearing yourself?"

"Yep."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Jack laughed at that. Though his Boogeyman was irate with him, he noticed how relief was beginning to seep into Pitch's expression. Pitch, of course, would not admit that he was relieved. Admitting wasn't his forte. But Jack knew.

"Am I interrupting something?" a voice sounded from the doorway. The two froze at Tooth's voice. Jack stayed calm, but he could see Pitch getting ready to twitch anxiously. If Pitch kept doing all the worrying for Jack, he was sure the Boogeyman was going to fall to pieces. Then again, the Guardians wouldn't kill Jack for having a shadow stuck inside him. What they'd do to Pitch was another matter entirely. No matter how used to Pitch they were now, this surely violated several unspoken rules.

Let me handle this, Jack thought as he gave Pitch a reassuring smile. The Nightmare King nodded, relaxing the slightest bit as he took a seat at the table. Great, now it was Jack's turn to be the comforting one. They were both mentally challenged and screwed at the moment. He turned his attention to the Tooth Fairy. "We're good. What's up?"

"May I ask what happened?" she said, gesturing to the patches of ice that still hadn't melted.

"Oh, we—I mean, I fixed the staff. Pitch insisted, and he was right. Arm's as good as new. Created a nasty blast, though." He glimpsed at Pitch, who looked like he wanted to glare at Jack but was too busy trying to act naturally to do so.

"That's great! Let's see the arm." She flitted over to the bed, which was also still frozen. Though the sling had fallen off during the incident, the bandages around his forearm remained in place. She started to unravel the gauze gently and slowly, as she had done many times. She believed the half-truth Jack had given her, and for that he was appreciative. Hopefully that half-truth would be all she needed. As she started to unwrap the bandage, she looked over to Pitch. "Is he okay?"

The Boogeyman certainly didn't look his normal shady self, that was for sure. "He's been like that since I found out about the . . . the . . . killing."

"Oh," she muttered. She blushed red, returning her focus back to the bandage. "That."

Now that she had her back turned on Pitch, Jack could see the Nightmare King really was glaring at him warningly. Jack squinted back at him, mouthing that he would freeze him solid if he didn't chill out. "Do the other Guardians know about that?"

"They know the threat is 'taken care of,' but Bunny and I haven't exactly been forthcoming on the 'how' of it."

"I guess that works." Jack looked back over at Pitch, keeping his arm still so Tooth could finish what she was doing. He again tried to give Pitch a reassuring smile, but the Boogeyman wasn't having any of it.

"Jack?" Tooth's voice sounded different as she whispered his name. "What really happened?"

"Wha—?" He stopped as he looked down at his arm. His eyes widened and every organ in his body felt like it had ground to a halt. The angry slices and gouges that had once been scarlet were completely healed, flesh undamaged and everything. Undamaged save for the fact that the skin had healed back gray. Pitch's gray. He now had a permanent pattern of gray on his arm where the monkey men had laid open his forearm. He had no half-truth for this one. He couldn't cover this up. "Shit." He dared to look at Pitch. The Nightmare King's eyes were wider than Jack had ever seen them and he looked like he wanted to pull his hair out.

"One of you better tell me exactly what happened in here. Right now." Tooth's gaze flitted between the two, her feathers flaring as she struggled to contain her fury.

"It was an accident," Jack began. Pitch was too stricken to speak. The Nightmare King's eyes were locked on Jack's arm.

"What kind of accident?" Tooth's attention zeroed in on Jack. Good. As long as he kept her attention on him and not Pitch, Pitch might have a chance of getting out of North's Workshop alive.

"I mended my staff, but it did something really weird with one of Pitch's shadows and this happened." He held up his arm.

"That can't be everything."

She was determined to hear the entirety of this explanation. So Jack told her, as quickly as he could and as calmly as he could. He explained everything, knowing she wasn't going to leave without hearing it all. When he finished, he said, "We can't tell the others."

"You're damn right we can't tell the others!" Those words coming from Toothiana were scarier than they should've been. She was furious. "North will kill him. Bunny will definitely kill him!" She flew over to Pitch, getting in his face. "And let me make something very clear to you: if I didn't know what you did for Jack, I would kill you too. But you've earned this one reprieve from me. If anything happens to him because of this, you will get more than a punch and a quarter the next time I find you." She moved back over to Jack. "Do not leave this room. Keep your arm covered. I will tell everyone you're resting up and to leave you alone just in case. When I get back, I'll have a new shirt for you and you'll be free to go. Get yourself under control. Find a way to fix this without breaking your staff. I have to agree with Pitch on that one." She flew to the door. Before she left, she turned back to them. "You two were trouble from the start," she muttered.

Jack felt the slam of the door go straight through him after that.

Cold and Alone

For the first time in most likely yet another wasted month, Jack was able to slip a hoodie back over his head and cover himself up. The sleeves were longer and the hood was bigger. The color was the same, and he watched as the fabric clung to his frozen body. Patterns already started to form on the cloth. Though it wasn't quite as snug as the last shirt he'd owned, he liked it. It covered him. It protected him. He was no longer exposed. Then again, he actually had something he had to hide now. Jack rubbed his forearm where gray skin had replaced pale, the section where the shadow had taken up residence within him.

Picking up his staff, he let loose the faintest smile at how frost appeared in the crevices and creases. He almost felt whole again.

Almost.

Pitch hovered. His hovering had grown worse, if that was possible. The shadow within Jack had made him paranoid, and Tooth's knowledge of the shadow really didn't help the situation. Jack had distanced himself from everyone since that day. He was a threat now. Most of his friends didn't realize that, but he knew. Pitch knew.

Tooth knew. He was a mess. She was right.

If Pitch would just stop looking so sad about it, Jack was sure he'd be fine. This was Jack's fault. Reasonably, it was no one's fault. But Jack wasn't feeling very reasonable of late.

"I need to go," he told Tooth, gripping his staff like it was going to be taken from him. In a way, he was glad Pitch had disallowed him from breaking it again to release the shadow. He didn't need that pain on top of everything else.

"Take care of yourself." She didn't even realize how much her earlier words had hurt him. Jack didn't want her to know. She'd only acted out of fear, out of concern for his safety. Again, it wasn't like she'd been wrong about Jack and Pitch being troublesome. They were.

Pitch touched his shoulder as Jack moved to the window. He glanced back at the Nightmare King, then looked about the room. The ice still hadn't completely melted. He closed his eyes, turning back to the window. "Let me be alone for a bit?"

He phrased it like a question, though it was more of a plea. Pitch hesitated, then nodded curtly. Jack wanted to thank him, but he knew that if he thought for one second his Boogeyman was really going to leave him alone, he was deluding himself. Pitch had a new job as well: keep Jack sane.

At least Jack could pretend he was on his own for a short amount of time. He'd been cooped up for entirely too long.

They watched Jack get carried off by the wind. For a moment, it was like he'd never been harmed.

"What's that shadow going to do to him?" the bird finally spoke after a moment of silence. They still stared out the window, though the boy had disappeared.

"I'm not entirely sure. It's been centuries since something like this has happened," Pitch answered honestly. "It depends on him."

"It won't hurt him, will it? Is it going to corrupt him slowly, take over—?"

"I won't let that happen." He turned to face her then, his facial expression changing into that of someone determined to live up to his promise. "I'll find a way to fix this."

She squinted back at him. "Here you are in the perfect position to hurt the Guardians in the most insidious way possible, and all you care about is making sure Jack doesn't become like you." He narrowed his gaze, biting back a snarl at her words. She knew she'd struck a chord in him. "It really does frighten you that he might become someone else, doesn't it?"

"You have no idea what it's like not being able to differentiate between yourself and the darkness that swallowed you," he snapped before he could stop himself. "You really are a twit if you think I'd wish that on him."

"He's changed you, Pitch. Whether you realize it or not, he's changed you."

"I haven't changed at all."

"Yes. You have." She stopped, as if realizing something she hadn't recalled until now. Pitch braced himself for what he thought was coming. "No. You're right. You haven't changed. You're just reverting back to your old ways. Only this time—."

"Stop." He growled. He felt his shadows writhing around him as his rage built. The twit didn't even look scared. That only angered him more. "Do NOT bring that up."

"Jack doesn't even realize half of what you've been through. Funny how your enemies know you better than those closest to you." She folded her arms, glaring back at him.

"I'm not having this conversation with you of all people." He stepped into his shadows, preparing to leave and find Jack.

"You and I have experienced the same loss, but from different perspectives. I'm the only person you know you can have this conversation with."

"That is irrelevant. I will not discuss this with you." Before she could say anything else, he disappeared into the shadows.

Then who will you talk to? Tooth didn't ask the question aloud. Instead, she landed and pressed her fingers to her temples. She breathed a sigh. She wasn't sure if it was relief she felt. She wasn't sure if she felt anything at all. That was a lie. She felt confused.

A knock on the door caught her attention. She returned to the air, turning to stare at who had interrupted her thoughts. "Hey, North."

"You don't look so good. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just . . . seeing the guys off." She paused as North crossed his arms, like he knew something she didn't. "What?"

"You are worrying."

She sighed. North always read her too well. "Yes, but I don't know who I'm more worried about."

"That is surprising. You, possibly worried for Pitch."

"Not as surprising as you'd think." She looked back out the window. "He cares so much for Jack. There's no way this can end well for him."

"What makes you so sure? I think they are good for each other."

If only he knew what had happened. He wouldn't be saying that if he knew. "They are. But I can't shake the feeling that one of them is going to end up hurting the other beyond repair. I just don't know who."

"If it is gut feeling, then you are probably right. You should be worried." He came to stand beside her, taking her hand reassuringly. "We can only hope at this point."

"You're right." She smiled up at him. "As usual."

Jack sat in the snow of the Arctic, his legs tucked up against his chest with his arms wrapped over his knees. His staff rested at his feet, his hood pulled up over his head. The cold was comforting. Being in a warm room for weeks with an equally warm body constantly pressing into him had been nice, but not as nice as the snow and the wind.

He felt lost. That last thing he needed was another existential crisis on his hands, but this one had kind of fallen into his lap. Or, to be more accurate, it had grafted itself onto his very skin. He was scared of this new development. Scared and without the support of his friends the Guardians. If he'd thought getting their support on being with Pitch was rough, they all would be in for a nasty surprise once they discovered this little tidbit of information. There was no doubt in his mind they would find out. It was just a question of when.

He was alone. Even with Pitch, he was alone now. Pitch had promised to help, but . . . things weren't going to be the same.

"I'm a liability." He knew it was true. Always the screw-up. Always the one getting injured. Always the one who needed protection or guidance. Jack's eyes felt heated suddenly as he got up in a flurry of rage. He grabbed up his staff, ready to break it over his knee. He could do this. He could do this one thing. He could fix this one thing for himself without anyone else's help. His forearm tingled, like the shadow was fighting against him from the inside. He was ready. He was about to bring the staff down on his knee. He was going to do it, but he . . . he couldn't. He just couldn't. "Godammit!" He threw the crook into the snow, crouching and balling his fists against his scalp. Half of his face felt hot, and he could feel his eyes burning. He was changing. He was changing and he was left alone, all over again. He screamed at the ground as his skin turned ashen and the humming in his head started. Suddenly, Jack Frost had taken a backseat in his own body.

"Jack?" The voice came from behind him. That voice. The voice that he usually loved to hear. He turned to look at the source. He wanted to go to it, but he remained seated. He remained on the ground, kept his distance. He waited. He waited to hear the voice again. Waited to hear if it would reject him. If he would be forced to stay alone. "Are you alright?"

He looked down. Couldn't keep looking up. Light hurt. Sunlight hurt. He felt exposed all over again. The space was too vast. Too open. He stared at his hands. He gripped his forearm, heat seeping through his shirt from the gray patches of skin. His feet twitched. Watched the shadowy ice spread out under his bare toes, forming an uneven circle around him. The humming wasn't so bad. It wasn't so bad now.

He looked back up. Pitch was there. He was standing over him. He blocked out the light. He liked that. Being in his shadow was easier than living in the light of the others. Their light was bright. It hurt him. He kept getting hurt. Pitch made the hurt he'd felt bearable. Made him safe. He wanted safe. Right now, he wanted safe.

But Pitch had to want him. Did he? No one else seemed to. Not really. Hardly anyone knew him. He was not this boy named Jack. That's why they didn't want him. He wasn't Jack. He wasn't, but he was. He was, but wasn't. Who was he? Would Pitch reject him?

"Please don't leave me," he begged. His voice was small compared to that voice. He was small compared to Pitch. He didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. He just didn't want to be alone. Did their Jack have the same fear? Jack had asked to be alone. Did he actually want to be alone though? He didn't think he did.

Pitch knelt beside the boy, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The boy closed his eyes and nestled against Pitch's side. The Nightmare King reached for the staff that rested nearby, watching his shadows replace the dark frost in the grooves. He could feel the boy's fear of rebuff. That fear alone was enough for Pitch to feel angry with himself all over again. More than ever, he was determined to right this. Then he would find a way to terrify the twit somehow. He had a feeling her words had affected Jack more than the Guardian would be willing to admit.

Though this new being wasn't completely Jack, he wasn't an entirely different entity. In many ways this was still Jack he was trying to protect, in just as many ways he wasn't. No matter what, however, Pitch couldn't ignore that face he'd come to . . . .

He refused to think it. Thinking it meant accepting it was true. And he wasn't ready to accept anything save for his determination to guard what was his. He told Jack he was going to help him, and Pitch was a man of his word when it suited him. At this time, it more than suited him. Jack was his, and no one was going to take him away. Not even the shadow that now governed his body was going to.

"You won't be alone," he whispered to the boy. He clung tighter to Pitch.

"Take me home?" he asked.

Pitch nodded, cradling the boy to his chest. Dark frost began seeping into his skin through his robes as the boy allowed Pitch to pick him up bridal style. Though he allowed it, the boy was still shaking in his arms like he expected to be injured. "No one's going to hurt you." This soothed the boy as he prepared his shadows for teleportation. "Not anymore."

"I have a name"

Jack's changes were random. There was no predicting when his eyes would darken and his already pale skin would grow paler. The only indication Jack had informed Pitch about was that he could feel it as it was about to happen on his grayed forearm. It wasn't entirely linked to stress. There had been moments when Jack would just stop moving and change. Intervals between one change and the next could be as short as an hour or as long as a week. Never longer, though. Learning to control something that was so unpredictable was damn near impossible.

If the arbitrariness of the changes wasn't hard enough to deal with, the constantly shifting personality of the shadow was almost intolerable. At first, dealing with the other Jack was simple. The other Jack needed to feel protected, and he usually found security either in the shadows of the lair or with Pitch himself. One of his earlier habits had been to find a wall and lean against it, facing outward so that he could watch every movement cautiously. Touching Jack when he was in this state was ill-advised. He tended to react quickly and sometimes violently to something as small as brushing past him while walking by. If he wanted physical contact, he would seek Pitch out. Pitch's Jack had become much the same way. Since they had left North's Workshop, things had been different between them. The physical aspect of their relationship was strained. They still talked, but not a great deal. Their main concern was with this new version of Jack Frost.

As days went by, however, the other Jack started to change more. Eventually he could control his dark frost. At first, anything he touched with his bare hands and feet would start to ice over. Now he only created the ice when he was feeling . . . mischievous was too gentle a word, but this Jack wasn't outright deceitful yet. He rarely left the lair in this state because he didn't like light. If it was night, sometimes he'd escape and head for colder regions. It was still summer after all. It wouldn't be long before Jack's duties as a winter spirit would complicate matters. For now, the other Jack just had a little fun creating blizzards in the faraway northern parts of the world. Though this new creature was not Jack, he loved fun like Jack. Jack and Pitch suspected, however, that this new Jack loved an entirely different kind of fun. So Pitch hadn't allowed him to encounter people yet. He tried to keep the new Jack as close to him as possible when he appeared.

But with this appearance of a 'fun-loving' side came the emergence of a less than submissive version of Jack. The other Jack got bolder and bolder with each appearance. He went from clinging to Pitch's robes or hiding in shadows to playing tricks on Pitch. Small tricks, really. Nothing too harmful. For an immortal, at least. He hadn't frozen Pitch under the bed, for one. Yet. His new favorite trick usually involved a patch of ice on one of the lair's bridges. One would think that trick were obvious and simple to avoid. However, the other Jack's games could get as elaborate as Pitch's. These games were another reason Pitch kept the new Jack away from humans. Though Pitch might find the peril this Jack was causing interesting, it would make keeping this new side of Jack hard to conceal from the Guardians. Being an immortal, Pitch could survive the tumbles that stemmed from these tricks. Humans might break their necks.

If Pitch knew a little more about how this new Jack worked, then he would eventually find ways to play back without traumatizing his Jack. He explained to his Jack during one of the intervals between changes that he was still unsure of how the other Jack was functioning, but was starting to garner some entertainment from the situations. Fortunately for both of them, Jack withheld telling Pitch that he'd been right: Pitch might grow to like this new Jack.

The new Jack spoke more, asking Pitch questions. He mostly wanted to know about himself at first. When the other Jack appeared, it was as if another person entirely was taking up residence in Pitch's lair. Both Pitch and Jack assumed that this other Jack didn't have complete access to Jack's memories. Considering Jack only ever remembered snippets of his experience as the other Jack, that seemed fitting. The questions started off rather small and insignificant in Pitch's eyes. As soon as the notion that Jack and Pitch were in a relationship had come up though, that was all the new Jack could ask about.

"So you two do the thing, right?"

"What?" Pitch was often confused by the new Jack's vernacular. This was one of those times. "What thing?"

"The thing! You know?" He started making an obscene gesture with his hands. Pitch narrowed his eyes and turned away. Questions like these annoyed him. He could deal with trivial conversation. He wasn't about to talk about his and the young Guardian's relationship with this entity. "I am so taking that as a yes!"

"Why are you so interested?"

"Would Jack get jealous if I made a pass at you?" That was a question Pitch hadn't heard before. He turned and glared at the golden-eyed boy. The new Jack winked at him, then put his hands up innocently. "No worries. I just got a scrap of an image of how pissed your Jack would be." He grinned wildly then, his hands on his hips. "Oh, what if I actually started hitting on other people. How would you feel about that?"

"Not in that body, you won't," Pitch snarled.

The boy mockingly put his hands on his face, feigning terror as he said, "Oh, I'm so scared." He lowered his hands and straightened up. "Well, then. Possessive a little, are we? At least let me have a little fun with this. Do you talk about sex often?"

"Where are you getting all of your ideas?" Pitch asked suspiciously. Honestly, how much on this subject could the shadow know?

"I'll take that as a no. What, was he a blushing virgin or something?" Apparently the looks on Pitch's face were very telling. The boy was having this talk all on his own and still getting answers out of the Boogeyman. "He was! I'll bet that was fun!"

"Do change the subject."

"But I like this one."

"Well I don't."

"That's too bad, Nightmare Man!"

"It's king, you insolent creature."

"I think Nightmare Man has a better ring to it."

"Well, that's not your call to make."

"Too bad you can't get too kinky with him. You've got a bit of a wild side to you, Nightmare Man."

"And neither of you will see it." Pitch turned away again, determined to get out of this situation before the conversation grew even less appealing.

There was a brief silence from the young man as Pitch moved partially into the shadows. "You know he's afraid of you, right?" That made Pitch stop dead in his tracks. He didn't turn around. He couldn't make himself. "Yeah, he's afraid. Afraid you'll eventually turn him out." Pitch's eyes widened at the thought, his back straightening. "Afraid you'll grow impatient with his miniscule fears and problems. He's been expecting you to lose your temper for a while."

"I thought you couldn't see into his mind." The words were soft, Pitch unable to hide the surprise in his tone.

"I see a little bit. Just skim the surface. And he's got a lot of surface to skim." The boy continued talking even while Pitch couldn't look at him. "I think it would help if you lost your temper with him. Might make him see just how much you want him."

"Why bring this up?" Pitch turned around again. The look on the boy's face was dead, almost completely devoid of emotion. It made the black scleras and golden irises seem . . . chilling.

"Because I want to." The boy raised his head defiantly, tilting it slightly. "These little fears. Fears of restraint. Has he told you why he has them?" Again, Pitch didn't need to answer. His face said it all. And now, he was genuinely interested in what the new Jack had to say. "It's killing you, isn't it? The fact that you don't know?"

"Tell me," Pitch growled, his tone one sharp note away from pleading.

"You two don't talk much. That's kinda sad." The boy started circling the Nightmare King as he spoke. "It's a memory I can't fully see. It happened when he was human."

"What happened?" He was begging now.

"It started as a sick prank. He was bullied as a human, you know—."

"No, I don't know," he interrupted sharply.

"Well, he was. Not frequently, mind you. But when they picked on him, they were brutal."

"What happened?" he asked again.

"It started as a simple prank. Jack likes pranks, right? Well, this one. This one was a gem. The kids thought that someone would find him eventually, I think. But—."

"He was left tied up for days," Pitch finished the story himself.

"The cruelest thing he'd ever endured. Until he died, at least. Then he was in for all kinds of cruelties." The boy was behind him now. "Including you." Pitch had the feeling that this new being was seeing into Jack's mind more than he was admitting. The thought crossed his mind that that meant there was more of Jack in this entity than Jack had told him. How much of what this thing was saying was true? "He went for centuries without having to react to that fear. He didn't even remember having the fear until he got his memories back. Then along came you." The boy had circled back around in front of Pitch, a wistful look on his face. "It's depressing, really. I kind of like a bit of restraint." Suddenly, Pitch found himself slipping on a patch of black ice. He fell backwards, landing hard on his back. As soon as he was flat on the stone, his hands froze to the ground and he couldn't move. Then the creature was on top of him, straddling his waist and hands on either side of Pitch's head. "Don't you?"

"Jack, if you're in there—."

"I'm not Jack."

"That's obvious."

"I have a name, now."

"I want Jack—."

"Well you can't have him, yet. I want you to know my new name."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not Jack, and you make that very clear with a simple glance. I may as well make things easier for you."

Pitch sighed reluctantly. "What's your name?"

"Rin." The boy drew closer to him. "My name is Rin. And that's the only thing I'm gonna make easy for you."

And then Pitch was being kissed with a force that was definitely not Jack. But it was Jack's lips on his. It was Jack's hands pulling his robe apart, Jack's body being pressed against his. It was Jack's sweatshirt being pulled over Jack's head and thrown aside, and yet this wasn't Jack. This was . . . Rin. And Rin had him frozen down. "Let me up," he managed to huff out.

"But doesn't it feel nice? Losing a bit of your tight-fisted control?"

"Not with you."

"With Jack, then." The boy managed to sound miserable at that. "Do you tell him you love him? Because it is very obvious you do. Maybe not to him, but it is to me."

"Please, let me up. I refuse to beg you any further."

"You feel like you're betraying him, don't you? By getting involved with me?"

"You call this getting involved?"

"I call this having fun. And tormenting you . . . it's going to be a lot of fun. And the best way to do it is to use Jack against you."

Pitch snarled, his temper flaring up. "Let him go."

"Kinda can't do that. I leave his body, then I am no longer. And I like living."

"When I find a way to destroy you, I will."

"That's only if I hurt your dearest Jack, right? For now, I'm your greatest ally in finding out what goes on in his funny little head."

"Let. Him. Go."

"You really don't listen to me, do you?"

Pitch summoned his shadows to break open the icy manacles Rin had set for him. When his hands were free, he flipped the boy onto his back and pinned him by the elbows. "I hear you, but on this matter you had better hear me as well. You hurt Jack, I will do everything in my power to force you from his body."

"Finally, you're starting to show some promise!" Rin cried excitedly. "Keep talking, please. I'm enjoying this."

"Jack is mine. He is not yours. You can't have him, and I want him back."

"He is loving this, I can assure you. And by loving, I mean he's shivering in the coldest, darkest region of his brain."

"Let him out!" Pitch's grip tightened on one elbow while his other hand flew up to Rin's throat.

Rin had to choke out his next words. "That's right, lose your temper—."

"NOW!"

"As you wish, Nightmare Man!"

Suddenly, the boy gasped. The black and gold were gone, and with it the surprising amount of calm Rin had demonstrated while faced with the rage of the Boogeyman. It was Jack's eyes staring up at him. Jack's terrified eyes. His free hand flew to Pitch's wrist as he gasped. His body started to tremble as Pitch realized what he'd done. He almost ripped his hands away from Jack, falling backwards in an attempt to get away from Jack's terror. While the fear was enticing, he didn't want it. It left a sour taste in his mouth. Rin had fooled him. Rin had fooled him into hurting Jack. That's all Rin had to do to torment Pitch. At least, that's all he knew to do for now. When Pitch realized this, he covered his face with his hands.

"Pitch?" Jack's hands covered Pitch's, trying to force the Nightmare King to look at him. Pitch fought him at first. "Pitch, please." Pitch didn't want to see his face, didn't want to acknowledge what had happened. But Jack's hands were shaking. They were shaking profusely, and he couldn't stand it.

Pitch held Jack's hands in his, daring to look into the boy's face. He glimpsed the red marks on Jack's neck, and he almost had to look away. Then he saw the tears frosted over in Jack's eyes, which ruined his resolve. "Jack, I'm—."

"Don't. Please don't apologize."

Jack looked down at their joined hands, and Pitch sensed a shame within the Guardian that didn't quite fit Pitch's understanding of the situation. He studied the boy's face, wondering. He could only guess what Jack was thinking, but he was a very good guesser. "Exactly how aware are you while . . . he's in control?"

"I already told—."

"And I'm not sure I believe you." Jack's face fell considerably more, and the shame became even more obvious. "Why would you lie about that?"

"I didn't—," he cut himself off with a sigh. "I don't . . . I'm not . . .," he cut himself off again, covering his face this time. When he finally found the words, he said, "I just wanted to feel normal again, and knowing what I'm doing to you hasn't helped."

"But why would you lie?"

"Partly because I wanted to forget. Mostly because . . . if I can't talk to you, maybe he can. And vice versa." Jack placed his hands in his lap. He still didn't look at Pitch. "I guess I was wrong. I'm just . . . a mess. Nothing but trouble."

Pitch straightened up when he heard those words come out of Jack's mouth. That's what was bothering him? He had been quiet and unresponsive to Pitch because of the words of the twit? Pitch mentally beat himself for remembering that he had been one of the first to suggest Jack was talented in making a mess of everything he got into. Still, he couldn't believe he hadn't realized this was what was keeping Jack from speaking to him. He stared at the boy, fighting against his tears as his hands started shaking again. "Jack, you're not a mess. You're not trouble. You are definitely not causing me any trouble, and if you were really listening in on my conversation with . . . Rin, then you know all of these things." Pitch placed a finger on Jack's chin, forcing the boy to look up at him. "And more." Pitch tried to smile, but was pretty sure it came out creepier than he'd intended. But Jack's face lit up the slightest bit, and Pitch was reunited with that old, odd feeling in his chest; the feeling that had somehow convinced him to save the life of a dying winter spirit and had inevitably brought the two of them together. Suddenly, Pitch was pulling him onto his lap and crushing the boy against his chest. He would have thought he was smothering Jack if the Guardian wasn't hugging him back just as fiercely. "Don't lie to me again."

"I won't."

"I mean it. If you need to talk, I will listen."

"I know." Jack pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against Pitch's. His lips brushed against Pitch's lightly. "Now quit being a big sap and kiss me."

Pitch did. He kissed Jack hard as he held the boy tight against his chest. Jack placed his hands on either side of Pitch's face, holding the Nightmare King's lips to his own. As if Pitch would pull away. "I want you. Right here, right now."

"No one's stopping you."

When Pitch had first hugged him, Jack had felt like the contents of his chest were going to explode. He was fairly sure they did when Pitch pretty much tackled him to the ground and started pulling the remainder of their clothes off.

The sex was agonizingly slow. Jack would've thought Pitch was purposefully torturing him if the Boogeyman wasn't holding him so closely. It almost felt like they were relearning each other's bodies. Pitch never took his eyes off Jack. He worked to maintain eye contact all throughout, as if he were making sure Jack were real.

When both were spent, they stayed on the stone floor for only a moment. During the act, they had completely neglected just how rough the texture of the floor was. Now, it had caught up to them and Jack could tell from the redness on various parts of their bodies that remaining on the floor wasn't a very good idea. So Pitch transported them to the bed, and Jack found himself being blanketed in Pitch's robes as the Nightmare King held him close.

"You know," Jack broke the silence, "I think I look good in black."

"This may prove a problem. You look better in my clothes than I do."

"That is not true. Your clothes are bordering three times my size."

"You are exaggerating."

"Maybe a little."

One of Pitch's fingers traced a line from Jack's ear to his chin before cupping Jack's cheek. Jack closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of Pitch's hand. He smiled at the touch. After opening his eyes again slowly, he was met with a small grin from the Boogeyman. "My Jack." Then Pitch was kissing him again.

Jack had missed this. He'd missed Pitch's gentle touch as much as he'd missed the roughness. He'd missed feeling secure, though the security he felt with the Nightmare King had been short-lived prior the attack of the monkey men and even after. The discovery of this thing called Rin had made everything harder for the both of them. Jack had thought he could handle it, but Rin had been right about several things. Jack was scared. Jack was scared of a lot of things. One thing he'd come to learn from Pitch was that fear was necessary at times. His fears, though, had grown debilitating at this point. And he had just barely glimpsed the plans Rin had in mind.

"I need your help with something."

Pitch perked up a little. "With what?"

"Help me stop being afraid," Jack's hand was shaking as he took Pitch's palm and placed it on his wrist. Pitch hesitated, realizing what Jack wanted from him. Jack squeezed his eyes shut as his Boogeyman wrapped his fingers around the thin, pale wrist. The Guardian struggled to quell the panic that rose inside him even though he'd convinced himself that there was no harm in trusting Pitch.

"You realize you're asking me to do the exact opposite of what my job entails?" Pitch said.

Jack forced himself to focus on Pitch's face and not the hand holding his wrist. "Who better to destroy a phobia than a master of fear?"

"Your faith in me is astounding." Pitch moved Jack's arm so that the boy's palm was resting on Pitch's neck. Jack let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when Pitch released his wrist. "A phobia takes time and patience. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Jack snuggled against Pitch's chest, a small moan escaping the Nightmare King's throat as the boy nestled into him. Their legs tangled as the larger man embraced the smaller. "I think I might be able to get a better handle on Rin's appearances if we can pull this off."

There was a pause as Jack heard Pitch's brain working to process what he'd said. "How?"

"I'm more susceptible to change when I feel afraid or unstable in some way." Jack closed his eyes against the memory of the attack. "I can't let anyone catch me by surprise again, either. Rin could be useful until we find a way to oust him. Are you sure—?"

"Don't even think about it." Jack had suspected that that would be Pitch's reaction to another attempt at convincing him to break the staff. The response made him smile. Normal. This almost felt normal. Then Jack thought of something and started laughing. "What?" Pitch almost sounded offended at the laughter. "Jack, what is so entertaining now?"

"Your face when he asked you about," he paused, chuckling as he tried to say the word, "sex."

"Do you have any idea of how red your face is right now?"

"It is not."

"Oh, but it is."

"Yours was."

"I beg to differ."

"It was!"

Jack laughed even more as Pitch rolled on top of him, still arguing as he trapped the Guardian with his weight. "No it wasn't."

"It was, though!"

"You must be mistaken. I do not fluster." Pitch was whispering sinisterly against Jack's neck, but it was only succeeding in making Jack laugh more.

"But you do!" Jack continued laughing, but his breath hitched as Pitch's teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of his throat. Still he refuted, "And you did."

"Recant that statement, or I'll be forced to do something the both of us might regret."

"I'm not taking it back." Pitch pulled away from his throat, their eyes locking. Jack should've been disturbed by the roguish look in Pitch's eyes, but he simply stared back with a look of mischief all of his own.

"Last chance, dear Jack."

"Do your worst, Boogeyman."

"Suit yourself." Then Jack's torso was being assailed as Pitch tickled him. The boy burst into laughter again.

"That's not fair!" Jack gasped out through laughter, failing to capture Pitch's hands to cease the assault.

"You think I fight fair? Where have you been all this time?" There was a brief moment as Pitch stopped tickling as he spoke. Jack jumped on the opportunity, wrapping his legs around the Nightmare King's waist to prevent him from pulling one of his disappearing stunts. Then Jack fought back. "No no no wait!" As he said this, Pitch tried pulling away from Jack's hands. Instead, he wound up falling to the side, pulling the boy on top of him. "Stop!"

"We're not fighting fair, remember?" And Jack doesn't quit until Pitch gives him exactly what he wants. "You're gonna laugh!" he daunted, Pitch biting his lip as he tried pushing Jack off of him. But Jack was very good at staying in one place when he wanted to.

"Godammit!" Pitch shouted as he released a small, uncomfortable laugh that sounded a lot like a combination of hissing and growling. The sound made Jack laugh in turn as he stopped tormenting the Boogeyman and unhooked his legs.

"Isn't that, like, the second time you've cussed in front of me?" Both were panting at this point.

"You're counting?"

"Maybe."

Pitch pulled Jack's face to his as he whispered, "You are marvelous. Do you know that?"

"Coming from you, I better believe it."

"Good." Their foreheads touched for a moment. "Now try not to fall asleep. I'll be tempted to get back at you for making me laugh."

"You can try." Both smiled at one another, Pitch holding the Guardian to his chest again. "I like being yours."

Pitch's grin widened, and Jack caught a glimpse of sharp teeth. "Good. Because you're definitely mine."

The Fear

Tooth managed to find a spare moment in her daily schedule to venture where she thought Pitch's lair was located. As suspected, it had reemerged in the same spot near Burgess where it had been during last year's confrontation. She sighed as she realized they were closing in on the two year mark. So much had changed since Pitch's defeat and Jack's induction. If she thought too hard about it, it would hurt her head.

She hadn't seen or heard from Jack since his recovery. Well, she could only hope he was completely recovered. She seriously doubted it, though. Bunny had wanted to check in on him sooner, but she'd advised against it. She didn't want to tempt fate into revealing the secret of Jack's condition to anyone other than herself and Pitch. She was nervous about happening upon it herself. She really didn't know what to expect of a shadow-infused Jack Frost.

Entering the lair, there was nothing but darkness. Very little light caught her focus as she flew past the cages hanging from the ceiling. She shuddered to think what had been in those cages. She neither saw nor heard from either man as she searched the seemingly empty cave. Surely Jack wasn't out and about during the summer. If he was, there were few continents he could be lingering on.

"Just because one Guardian has taken up residence here doesn't mean all of you can come visit," came a dark, familiar voice. She looked in the direction she thought it had originated from, a tremor of fear welling up. Habit. She feared him more out of habit now. There was no Pitch Black in her sights, though.

"How is Jack doing?" she asked, unwilling to show that Pitch's presence still made her uncomfortable.

"He is fine for now. Resting, if you must know." His voice was thrown from another direction. How had Jack gotten used to this darkness and shadow play? How could he rest easily in it?

"And the shadow inside of him?" Tooth continued asking questions, though her instincts were screaming for her to flee.

Suddenly, Pitch was in front of her. Had she been grounded, she might have jumped out of her feathers. "Nothing for you to concern yourself over. We are working to subdue it."

"Subdue? You want to do that?" She was stunned that Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, the Boogeyman, manipulator of shadows and bad dreams, wanted to suppress one of his own minions. She squinted at him in disbelief.

But his face remained serious. "It has given itself a name and has become an absolute pain in the neck, for lack of a more politically correct term. I would suggest you leave before it has another episode."

"You mean Jack?"

"Let's be clear. This thing is not Jack. If it were, I may be able to tolerate it at best. But it isn't. It has simply hijacked Jack's body and abilities." Pitch turned away, making for the shadows again as he continued, "It means ill to anyone it sees fit to bother, so you'd best be off."

"I think it'll be a while before I get used to you warning me of danger," Tooth uttered to the Boogeyman.

He turned back to her at that. "The only reason I don't find entertainment in the thought of you encountering this thing lies in my loyalty to your fellow Guardian. Otherwise, I would willingly set it loose on you. Now leave. You've done enough damage for now."

She was just about to question him on that last statement when yet another familiar voice interrupted with, "Isn't he loveable? I'm touched." Tooth and Pitch gazed up at one of the arches in the walls to find Jack lounging there, staff in hand. Only . . . that wasn't Jack. Tooth's eyes widened as they focused in on the black and gold that had corrupted Jack's eyes. He looked ashen, and there was a nature to this version of him that made her want to fly away even more. Somehow, she found herself stuck staring into those eyes. He smirked at her state of shock. "Loveable though he is, he hasn't bothered to introduce me. I'm Rin, and it is a he, by the way."

"Leave. Now," Pitch muttered to her. She could not express in words how terribly she wanted to, but was frozen by the state her friend was in.

"No no no! Please don't!" It stood up and flew over to her, placing itself precariously between Tooth and Pitch. "The only company I get is this sourpuss right here." He gestured to Pitch. "And you my lady . . . are colorful!" Oh dear Manny, he looked like he was sizing her up for a dinner plate.

"That's enough, Rin," Pitch snarled as he stepped forward, ready to pull the boy back.

It slipped out of his grasp at last minute, and Tooth suddenly found herself being pulled down to his eye level by the wrist. She resisted the urge to squeal as he got in her face. "How bout a kiss for the troublemaker. That is how you think of us, right?" And suddenly, she understood what Pitch had briefly mentioned earlier. "Except, I think I make a better bad boy than your Jack Frost."

Suddenly, shadows twined around the boy's limbs, pulling him away from Tooth and towards Pitch. "Have an inkling of respect for the body you're in," Pitch growled, his voice bordering on enraged. His gaze flitted up to Tooth. "Leave, for God's sake!"

"I'm sorry." The words came out with the breath she had been holding. Then she came to her senses and fled the lair.

It would take every ounce of her willpower not to warn the Guardians of this new side of Jack.

And here Pitch thought that Jack would finally get some rest. Instead, they had been rudely interrupted by a certain twit coming to see about his health. Pitch had been reluctant to leave Jack sleeping in the bed. The boy had been having a nightmare. Pitch, again, had not given it to him and therefore couldn't control or banish it. He was sure the nightmare was only intensified by that shadow inside the Guardian.

The shadows released Rin, the creature turning and giving Pitch a sardonic look. "You are absolutely no fun."

"And you are annoying."

"You're just jealous. You don't like me teasing others."

"Let's be fair. I wouldn't care if you flirted with individuals if you were in anyone else's body. But you're in Jack's body, and—."

"Jack is yours, yada yada yada, you're boring." Rin then reached into the front pocket of the hoody and pulled out an instrument Pitch recognized. It was one of his torture tools. Pitch's eyes widened the slightest bit as the boy examined the sharp end of the tool. "You've got an outrageous collection of oddities, you know."

"Where did you find that?" Pitch had been sure he'd hidden his devices well.

"Lying around. You may be good at hiding things, but I like finding the dirty little secrets you think you can keep from me." Pitch prepared to lunge for the tool, but the boy danced away on a gust of freezing wind and landed on one of the cages dangling above. "You used the pliers last, didn't you?"

"Give that back!" Pitch demanded, sinking back into the shadows and looking for a way to get to Rin.

"Answer the question, Nightmare Man," Rin stated, his playful tone laced with a hint of malice.

Pitch cast shadows on the walls, trying to distract Rin long enough so he could manifest nearby. The damned creature wasn't falling for it, though. "I did."

"Bit of advice: you should really clean up the grooves a little better. Still had a bit of . . . monkey blood." Rin shifted the tool to his other hand as he held onto the chain connected to the ceiling, spinning around the top of the cage. "Now where does this one go?"

Pitch joined Rin on the top of the cage, the boy almost smiling at his appearance. It was a smile without teeth, and it unnerved Pitch. "Give it back."

"Oh, I know!" he said with excitement, staring devilishly at the Boogeyman. He raised the tool the slightest bit as he continued, "This one takes care of the eye."

"Don't!" Pitch shouted, a wave of panic surging through him as he realized Rin's intention. He reached for the tool only to have Rin spiral upward on the chain of the cage, looking down at the Nightmare King from the position he'd climbed to. Pitch snarled, knowing the boy was just out of his reach. "Don't you dare—!"

"Relax, Nightmare Man. I'm sadistic, not masochistic. I'm sure you can relate." His look turned quizzical as he stared at Pitch. "Then again, you do enjoy having these pearly whites sink into your skin every now and then. And your sweet little Jackie does like your fangs. I'd be willing to try anything. Since you chased away the only company I've had other than you, maybe I should get back at you a little."

"Give me the tool, and I'm at your disposal." Pitch held up his hands, indicating his seriousness. As long as Rin didn't hurt Jack. Rin could do whatever he wanted as long as it didn't harm Jack.

"What an enticing offer!" Rin was seriously considering it. Then he feigned an apologetic expression as he said, "But I just can't accept it. Sorry. I'm afraid I'm feeling experimental." He adjusted on the chain so that he was holding his position with his legs, the staff dangling from his elbow as he lifted his shirt and placed the sharp edge of the tool over a section of his ribcage. Just as he was about to draw a line across pale skin, Pitch grabbed the end of the staff and managed to knock the boy off balance by yanking it down. Rin slipped, dropping the tool as he slid down to Pitch's level.

Pitch grabbed the boy by the back of his neck and tilted his head upwards so he was staring into the Boogeyman's face. Pitch spoke in a low and deadly tone, "You can do whatever you want to me. You will not mar the body you're inhabiting. Understood?"

"Whatcha gonna do about it, Nightmare Man?" Rin challenged. Pitch lifted the boy off his feet and threw him to the shadows, which seized him and pulled him into one of the cages. After he was sealed into the cage, Pitch retrieved the staff and tool. "Are you kidding me?" the boy shouted indignantly as Pitch gathered the items. "Your best idea is to lock me in a friggin' cage?" Pitch didn't answer or look the boy's way. He didn't need to. He felt a shift in Rin's tone as soon as he caught on to what Pitch was really doing. "Don't ignore me. Don't you ignore me, Nightmare Man!"

Despite the angry shouts that turned into pleas, Pitch did ignore him. Rin had but one definable fear, one that he shared with Jack: being alone. He tasted that fear now, and it was as bitter to him as Jack's fears. He hid in the shadows as the boy thrashed inside the cage, shouting as he tried to break free.

Pitch wasn't sure who was experiencing the worst of this punishment: Rin or himself. All he wanted to do was yank the Jack Frost lookalike out of his new prison and shake him, demanding that he let Jack go. Though Jack was willing to try and break his phobia of being held down by the wrists, that wasn't how Pitch wanted to start the process.

He wished he could find it in himself to enjoy this method of torment, but he couldn't. Not when it was Jack's voice ringing in his ears. It wasn't Jack, but it was still his voice. He didn't interact with Rin once the boy was imprisoned. For now Pitch just needed to endure the panicked screams.

Silence. Silence and darkness and cold swirled around him as the ringing in his ears subsided and Jack was free of the haze that was Rin's mindset. He shook his head, trying to get his bearings. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he'd been encased in a block of black ice. And his body ached. Rin had thrown himself about the cube and probably bruised Jack all to hell trying to escape. Jack tried chipping away at the ice with his bare hands, but all he did was reinforce the barrier. At times like these, he tended to curse his own abilities. That's when he remembered the reason for Rin throwing a tantrum and surrounding himself with cold.

How long had he been in the cage, exactly?

"Pitch?" Jack shouted, managing to hurt his own ears as the sound reverberated within the icy walls. He called out for the Nightmare King again, hoping that he heard him. He really hoped he heard Jack. Jack could very possibly get claustrophobic if he stayed inside the icy, metal prison for long. Just when he thought he'd have to call out a third time, something dark seeped through the blackened cracks of the ice. Jack squinted as he stared at the movement. Before he could think to remember just who he was dealing with, the ice broke apart at the darkened seams and shattered, inviting yet more darkness into the cage. Jack curled up into a protective ball as shards struck his back and sides. When he looked up, Pitch was opening the door to the cage and dragging him out by his shirt. "Easy! Easy!" Jack complained, some of the bruises on his body flaring and making him ache even more. He groaned as Pitch pulled him into a tight, possessive hug. That certainly didn't help the bruising, but the warmth of the Boogeyman's body was much appreciated. "Pitch, are you trying to smother me? Because it's working."

"Are you alright?" Pitch asked quietly, his face buried into Jack's shoulder as he continued holding Jack without any sign of letting go.

"I feel like I've been in a boxing match with an iron bar, but otherwise I'm fine." Pitch actually squeezed him tighter. Jack would never admit that he squeaked at the tightness of the Nightmare King's arms around him. "Pitch. Bruises. Help." Then Jack was being whisked away into the shadows. He landed softly in Pitch's bed, but as soon as he thought he was finally going to get a breath of air without having Pitch stifling him, his hoody was being yanked over his head. His cry of annoyance was muffled by the blue fabric. When he was free of the cloth, he looked up at Pitch. "Seriously?! A little warning, please!" He sighed as Pitch paid hardly any attention to his exasperation and instead began looking over his torso and limbs for bruises. The largest of the bruises was on his left side. When Pitch ran his hand over it accidentally, placing just a little too much pressure on it, Jack hissed. Pitch prepared to pull away when Jack grabbed his hand and placed it back on the angry looking mark. He sighed when the heat of the Boogeyman's hand soothed the ache. "How long?"

"I'm not sure. An hour or two at least." Pitch's voice sounded heavy and sad. Jack had a feeling that hearing Rin screaming for his freedom was about as enjoyable for Pitch as trying to break Jack's phobia. Jack touched Pitch's face, trying to seem reassuring. He wanted to smile when the Nightmare King leaned into the Guardian's palm, but Pitch's face turned fierce as he stared back at Jack. "I want it out."

"So do I. Right now he responds to fear. For the most part. There's no telling when he'll respond to which fear, exactly. But that's the only connecting factor I can find." Jack rolled his eyes at himself. "Should've guessed, really. It is one of your shadows."

"As soon as I find a way, I'm getting rid of it. It threatened to hurt you just to irritate me."

"'Irritate' isn't strong enough a word, you know."

Pitch's lips twitched, like he wanted to smile. "You're picking up on my habits."

"Obviously." Jack leaned forward and kissed his Boogeyman, who leaned into the kiss enough to steadily push Jack down on the bed. Pitch deepened the kiss, running his hands over Jack's chest and shoulders until his fingers were tracing lines down each of his arms. When fingertips grazed Jack's wrists, the boy resisted the urge to gasp and open his eyes. But his whole body tensed, and Pitch pulled away. His hands remained in place as he watched Jack struggle with his fear. The tickling sensation of fingertips over his pulse was almost more terrifying than the feel of palms. "Just do it."

Pitch obeyed, his hands wrapping around and practically swallowing Jack's wrists. A jagged breath was torn from Jack's lungs as he stared up into Pitch's black-gold gaze. A gaze he should've been fearful of, but somehow found comfort in. This entity of fear would not harm him. He knew that in his mind. He still wasn't sure he was ready to admit that he knew it in his heart. What was important at this time, however, was that his body needed to get with the program. His body was the one that needed convincing in regards to his safety with Pitch Black.

He maintained eye contact, hoping that it would help even out his breathing or settle his heart rate. He hoped that eventually the burning sensation of hot palms on cold wrists would subside. It didn't. He dared to close his eyes, still hoping for reprieve from the onslaught of full-bodied terror. There was absolutely nothing worse than the inability to control one's body. The involuntary shaking was the worst. He knew he was safe, knew he had nothing to fear, and yet his whole body shook as though he were being confronted with his very doom.

But with the closed eyes came the memories of the monkey men. His perpetrators. He felt his arm begin to tingle, the gray area begin to burn. He fought it. He struggled against Rin. He knew Rin was surging forward at the opportunity, realizing Jack's fears before Jack could stop it. Jack whimpered at the feeling, trembling even harder. Pitch's voice somehow reached him through the haze. "Jack? Listen to me, Jack. I can stop at any time. I can let go at any moment—."

"Don't!" Jack said through clenched teeth, still struggling against Rin.

"I won't, but I can."

"I have to do this."

"I know. You have nothing to fear, Jack." Jack opened his eyes at that. Pitch's expression seemed so genuine, and it still looked so odd for the Boogeyman to show that much concern for him. But he had seen Pitch look worse. Much, much worse. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Jack's answer was immediate. The involuntary shivering still hadn't ceased, though. He took comfort in the disappearance of the tingling on his arm that indicated Rin's presence, just as he took comfort in Pitch's gaze.

A slight smile crept across Pitch's lips as he placed a light kiss on Jack's creased forehead. Jack sighed at the contact, and for the first time his body went still. He wasn't shivering at all. The warmth of Pitch's hands on his wrists felt good, suddenly. He wasn't intimidated. He wasn't scared. He felt . . . okay. Until Pitch's grip tightened ever so slightly. Then he arched his back, bucking against the sensation and gasping as he shook even more. Fear swelled inside his chest as his heart picked up speed and his lungs hammered within him. He fought the hold, but Pitch didn't release him. He struggled underneath the Boogeyman, whimpering as he realized Pitch wasn't going to let go without his say-so. Suddenly his legs felt constricted by Pitch's weight, he felt like he was being suffocated by Pitch's heat, and he felt like he was going to scream from the panic building up in his chest.

And then it stopped. Pitch pulled away, stepping off the bed entirely. "I can't do this."

"What?" Jack struggled to get himself under control, looking over at the Boogeyman.

"I can't. Your fear. I can't . . .," Pitch trailed off, crossing his arms and looking down. He almost looked ashamed of himself. "Your fear is distasteful to me, now."

Jack felt uncomfortable. He almost felt intrusive, as if this was something Pitch hadn't meant to say aloud. But he had. And Jack didn't know what to do. "I have to stop being scared."

"I can't hold you down until you don't struggle anymore. It's too . . . raw. And your terror tastes awful."

"I'm trying to understand how fear can bother you. Are you hearing yourself?"

Pitch looked up at him, exasperated. "It's not just any fear, Jack. It's yours. Your fear is acid on my tongue. It burns me to feel it, and I hate it because it's stopping me from—."

"Doing your job?"

"Helping you." Jack would never understand how the Nightmare King's priorities had changed so drastically in such a short amount of time.

"We'll find a way." Jack's hands were still shaking. He could feel the tremor in his shoulders as he sat up and reached for Pitch. Pitch's arms encircled him and drew him closer. Jack felt like he could get lost in that embrace.

"Let me figure this out," Pitch begged against Jack's hair.

"Okay."

"Will you please rest now? I can practically feel your body growing weary."

Though the statement was creepy in its own right, Jack smiled. "Yes."

"You're mine. Only mine."

Jack's smile widened as the Boogeyman's arms tightened possessively around him. "Pitch?"

"What?"

"I think you're the one who needs the rest. Your humanity is showing."

"Shut up." Jack did, especially when he felt Pitch's lips curve against his shoulder.

Pitch never slept. He tried not to. He had good reason not to. More often than not, he tended to relive his past while he rested. His past was gruesome. It was bloody. Moreover, it was utterly heartrending and sorrowful. He had much to regret and much to miss. Whether the Guardians realized it or not, his villainy stemmed from his heavy losses. And he'd lost much because of them. But falling asleep with Jack in his arms was an idea he welcomed. The only feeling that he liked better was waking up with Jack still curled against him. And his sleep had been dreamless. He liked to think it was strictly because of Jack's presence.

Rest didn't come easy to the Nightmare King. However, some higher power saw fit to allow him some reprieve that night. Touching Jack's serene face, realizing he hadn't seen the boy look so peaceful in such a long while, he found himself secretly thanking the Man in the Moon for such a splendid spirit. He'd be loath to admit it to anyone else, but he at least admitted it to himself.

Teeth and Tears

Bunny made his way to the Tooth Palace, bringing some eggs with him so he could work during the visit. He wanted to know how Jack was doing, and Tooth had said she'd visit him. He'd heard very little about what had become of the winter spirit after he had been deemed healthy enough to leave North's Workshop. And Bunny couldn't shake how protective Tooth was acting in regards to the condition of Jack Frost. It was highly suspicious, and Bunny didn't like thinking too hard about the possibilities.

Though he'd grown used to the idea that Jack would meet no harm while in Pitch's lair, he was still incredibly uncomfortable knowing that Jack and Pitch had only grown closer since the attack. The fact that the other Guardians had also grown indifferent to the Nightmare King's now constant presence made Bunny even more uneasy. He may have avenged one of their own and he may have proven himself harmless to them in Jack's time of need, but he was still Pitch Black. He was still the Boogeyman, the manipulator of shadows and bad dreams who'd threatened and almost killed them all not so long ago. Just because he held a fondness for one of their own didn't mean he wouldn't turn on them again.

But Bunny couldn't deny that it was definitely more than fondness Pitch was showing towards Jack. It made Bunny feel . . . strange. He felt especially strange given his almost unnatural levels of concern for a boy who'd ruined one of his Easters. Now that he thought about it, make that two Easters. Actually, one and a half. Bunny still wasn't sure he was going to forgive Jack for the blizzard of '68, but he could partially forgive him for the Easter Pitch had nearly ruined.

Tooth was not in her usual spot, directing her fairies about and telling them where and how to properly place and care for a child's tooth. He searched the palace, eventually ending up in the garden area. He found her by the pool, staring at something she was holding. She wasn't hovering. She was grounded. That seemed very wrong to him.

"Tooth?" he asked. She started, turning towards him with a surprised look on her face. He was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

Before he could comment, she rubbed the streams from her cheeks and eyes. "Bunny, what—?"

"What happened? Was it Pitch?" Seeing Tooth this distressed only made him want to attack the source. He didn't like any of his friends getting hurt, and if he knew the person who had done the hurting he would pay them back tenfold. There was also the added bonus of knocking Pitch Black down a few notches.

"No, I . . .," she cut herself off, returning to stare at what was in her hands. Two silver cases lay in her hands. They looked very much like the golden cases that held the teeth the fairies collected from under children's pillows. He'd never seen silver cases before. Before he could question her about them, she said, "I said some things to Jack. Hurtful things. I didn't realize just how hard he took them. Not until it was too late."

"So he's not okay?" Bunny continued to stare at the cases, trying to work out the puzzle in his head.

"He's . . . fine. As fine as he can be . . . after . . . ."

Her hesitation did nothing but unsettle Bunny. He came to sit down next to her, still eyeballing the silver cases. Suddenly he knew what they were. "You kept the . . . evidence? Isn't that what he called them?"

"Yeah. Right now it's reminding me of the lengths to which we would all go to help each other." Their gazes narrowed on the cases.

Bunny looked back up at her. The comment was strange, and he'd heard some pretty strange things in his extended lifetime. "But that was Pitch's doing."

"I encouraged it. I even told him to bring me proof. Now he's . . . he's . . .," she shook her head, cutting herself off again. She closed her eyes and turned her head from him. When she turned back, her gaze was stern. "If I tell you something, will you keep it between us? Don't tell North or anyone, act like you never heard it?"

"Judging by your face, I don't think you should tell me anything, mate."

Tooth slumped, dropping the teeth in the pool which reflected the two of them. He watched them sink until he couldn't see them anymore. The tears returned to her eyes and Bunny could almost feel the guilt washing over her like rain. She tried to cover her face, hide her weeping from him, but it was impossible to hide. Her shoulders shook as the sobs racked her body. Bunny set his basket aside and wrapped an arm over her shoulders. She leaned into him as he settled down beside her.

Bunny wondered what it was she had wanted to tell him, but quickly forgot about it. She was too upset to say anything now, and there was no use putting her through a confession anyway. Bunny sat with her, letting her unleash what she'd been holding in.

He couldn't wait till things got somewhat back to normal. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that it was going to be a long time before that happened.

Horses

"Pitch, are you okay?" Jack had been out on the wind trying to get some air, but had soon returned to the lair. Rin was becoming less and less of a problem. Once the connection between Jack's fear and Rin's appearances had been made, he'd become predictable. He'd also become more reasonable since Pitch had locked him in a cage and left him alone, but he was no less devious. More than that, summer was just bothersome and boring to begin with. Jack couldn't wait for it to end. However, he hadn't exactly been in a position to keep track of the passing days. Time gets treated differently when one is whisked between the pole and a perpetually dark place. For all he knew, September was swiftly approaching. The heat told him otherwise, though. But coming home to Pitch hiding under their bed couldn't be a good sign. Or could it? "Pitch, are you listening?"

He emerged then, and Jack was able to withhold his surprise at the speed of Pitch's emergence. He'd gotten good at predicting when the Nightmare King was about to unintentionally pull what humans would deem a 'jump scare.' "I may have discovered a way to break your phobia."

Jack perked up at that. "Really? Without you panicking on me?"

Pitch squinted at him, a hint of irritation in his gaze. The look made Jack quirk a smile at him. "It's your panic that makes me panic. Otherwise, I wouldn't resort to something like this."

It was Jack's turn to glare. "Resort? Am I going to be dangling from a ceiling?"

"Not quite."

"That's a relief." Jack set his staff against the wall by the bed. It looked at home by the bed, like it belonged there. The thought also helped calm Jack's nerves as he refocused on the discussion at hand. "So how is this going to work?"

"Have you ever trained a horse?" Pitch asked.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I can't say I have."

"Handling a horse takes time and patience, something that both of us lack unfortunately. The first thing a horse, or any creature really, must get used to is the hand of its trainer." Pitch touched Jack's cheek almost lovingly, forcing Jack to smile wider.

"Aren't I a lovely horse?"

Jack was glad to see Pitch's lips twitch, like he wanted to smile. He remained serious, though, continuing. "It's easier to train a foal from birth, when they are susceptible to imprint on the one who is training it. More often than not, however, a trainer has to work through the mistakes or lessons a young horse has already endured. The case is especially true when the horse has been handled roughly in the past and has learned not to trust."

"Yay me!" Jack said unenthusiastically.

"Most anything can be remedied with consistency. There isn't much consistency in my holding your wrists. The pressure will change, the weight, all of the minute details we don't think about unless we really put a lot of thought into it. There would be consistency if—."

"You were to tie me up to something," Jack finished for him.

"Yes."

"Like a horse."

Pitch hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. The problem lies in how to tie you. It needs to be firm enough to really achieve our goal, but it needs to be loose enough to give when you panic."

"Use your shadows."

Pitch squinted at him again. "Well, what else did you think I was going to use?"

"I really don't know. At this point, I just expect you to have any number of oddities lying around in here."

"You consider rope an oddity?"

"Maybe not rope, but what you might use it for."

"Why would I have rope when I have—?"

"Don't read too much into it, Boogeyman." Jack stepped closer and stood on his toes to kiss the Nightmare King.

Pitch sighed against Jack's lips when the Guardian settled back on his feet. "You will be the death of me."

"If you die, I'll kill you."

"That makes no sense."

"It's not supposed to." Jack sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Let's get started. How are we doing this?"

"The bars on the bed will work." Pitch and Jack made eye contact, and Jack realized that Pitch looked about as nervous as he was beginning to feel. He hadn't started shaking yet, but he knew he would. He always did. "You're certain you want to do this?"

"There's no other way, is there?" Pitch sighed, shaking his head. He hated this. Jack could tell he hated this. No matter how bizarre it may seem, it was obvious the Nightmare King was uncomfortable with Jack's anxiety. Well, that made two of them.

Before either of them could flake out, Jack sat on the bed and slid on so that his back was flush against the bars. He held his wrists out to Pitch, who sat with him before taking what was offered to him in both hands. Jack closed his mouth and his lips tightened into a thin line as the heat of Pitch's open palms almost burned his forearms through his hoody. "Breathe, Jack."

Jack felt foolish that Pitch had to remind him to breathe. He let out a shaky breath as Pitch slowly moved Jack's arms so that they were resting against the bars on either side of his head. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, hoping it would help. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, the shadows crept across his sensitive skin. Exhale, they began twining around his arms. Inhale, they tightened just the slightest bit. Exhale, Pitch's warmth fled his senses.

The involuntary shivering started as the reality of being bound set in. He opened his eyes, still struggling to inhale and exhale in a steady rhythm. Pitch sat with him, but he had moved to the foot of the bed to give Jack room. Pitch watched him carefully throughout the unsteady breathing and involuntary shaking. Jack knew he was looking for any sign that Jack had had enough of this experiment. Pitch often forgot to take into account how stubborn Jack was.

Jack tested the bonds. A jolt of terror rocketed through him when he was met with the resistance. He stilled, his eyes wide as his breathing grew uneven again. Though Pitch had managed to create an illusion of elasticity in the ties so that Jack could struggle without serious injury, Jack's first instinct was to stop moving and hope the sensation disappeared. But no, his wrists remained in place. The pressure surrounding his pale skin stayed the same. His heart hammered in his chest and his breathing suddenly stopped. He held his breath and closed his eyes as the pounding and shivering got worse. He clenched his fists against the fear. He had to stop the fear. He had to fight it. The gray area on his arm tingled as he felt Rin responding to his fear. He didn't even feel Pitch reposition himself on the bed so that he was sitting up straight with knees tucked under him. "Jack, you need to breathe." Jack fought to open his eyes, a short breath gasping past his lips and through clenched teeth. Pitch's eyes were intense. "Watch me."

"Pitch—."

"Trust me, Jack. Trust and watch me." Pitch breathed in through his nose slowly, then exhaled through his mouth just as steadily. "Try it." Jack's breaths were shaky at first, the hammering in his chest and the tingling in his arm distracting him. After the first time he attempted it, Pitch said, "Again." Jack obeyed, his attempt still shaky but not as bad as before. "Keep going." Again, Jack obeyed. As he continued, the tension in his chest released. His heart rate slowed and his breathing stabilized. The shaking didn't stop. That was expected, though. Through it all, he kept his eyes on Pitch. The fear remained, but Rin settled back down within him. Pitch's gaze lost its intensity as Jack settled back down. "You're doing better."

Jack kept his eyes on Pitch. It helped. It helped to have him there, guiding him through the waves of horror. He sat staring for a while, then worked up the energy to speak. "How often do you train a horse?"

"Every day if possible."

"Then, an hour a day should do the trick."

"An hour? That's pushing it—."

"An hour and no less." Pitch clenched his jaw, but recognized Jack's resolve. Jack was grateful that he didn't argue with him any further. "How does it taste?"

"What?" If Pitch were a dog, Jack knew he would have tilted his head in confusion.

"My fear. Is it . . . easier this way?"

Pitch looked down, brow furrowed as he thought over his response. "Easier is not the right word, but it is certainly more bearable when I'm not in direct contact with you. Not as bitter."

"You mentioned before it was like acid?"

"Yes. Acid. Metallic, stinging, and sets my innards on fire. This is what the fear of those close to me does."

Jack paused. "Those?"

"I haven't always been alone, you know." The admission seemed to have pained Pitch, so Jack didn't ask. They sat in silence for a moment, watching each other. Pitch's expression had fallen, and Jack felt guilty for having saddened him. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"Pity me."

"I'm not—."

"You were."

"Pitch—."

"You were." He said it more forcefully the second time. Jack looked away then, avoiding Pitch's face.

The silence left nothing but the shivering and the bonds for Jack to focus on. "I always was."

"Come again?" Pitch's tone was softer.

"Alone. I was always alone. Until . . .," he paused before he continued. "Really, until you showed up. Had you not challenged the Guardians, I would still be ignored."

Jack didn't look up at Pitch. In fact he closed his eyes and tried to find a way to stop shivering. He didn't want to focus any longer on the sore spot he'd just brought up. He just wanted to fight the phobia. He jumped when a hot hand touched his chin and tilted his head upward. Jack found himself lost in Pitch's gaze once again. "You don't have to be alone anymore."

Jack smiled warmly at his Boogeyman, momentarily forgetting about the fact that he was shaking. When Pitch kissed him, all other sensations disappeared into the peripheral.

A few days later, they were back in the same position. They'd stuck with Jack's quota for an hour a day, though Pitch still tried to talk him out of his many times. Jack's progress was slow, but they timed it based on how soon he could form coherent thoughts after the initial binding. The interval between the binding and the conversation starter wasn't getting noticeably shorter yet, but they liked to think they were making progress.

Jack hadn't been tied up long enough to begin thinking somewhat clearly before the oddest occurrence caught his attention. Pitch was doing something he had never done in front of Jack before. "Is that a book?"

"You're very observant, Jack."

"Are you wearing glasses?"

"The term you're looking for is 'spectacles.'" Sure enough, Pitch had on a pair of half-moon spectacles and was cracking open a thick, black book.

Pitch could tell Jack couldn't believe what he was seeing. He could practically hear the thoughts going through Jack's head: Pitch read? Pitch did something other than hide objects, scare people, and . . . do things with him? How had Jack not known this sooner? "You're reading."

"Isn't that obvious?" Pitch asked, a little exasperated and still on the first page.

"I'm not asking, just . . . wow, that is the last thing I expected you to be doing."

Pitch didn't look up, instead focusing on the book in his hands. "What else am I supposed to do while you're working through your phobia? As appealing as you are to me, I can't just stare at you all the time."

"Never stopped you before." Pitch tried to hide his smirk by raising the book higher. He didn't speak after that, but he noticed Jack ignoring the habitual shivering and stretching against the binds to find a title on the book. It should've given Jack pause that the restraints weren't bothering him half as much as they should. Instead, he was entirely too interested in Pitch's choice of activities. "Is it iTwilight/i?"

"What on earth is that?"

"Some story that warranted a whole slew of girls crying and beating each other up over it."

"Sounds like the kind of horror I work to avoid, really."

Jack continued straining to see what it was Pitch was reading. Then he realized Pitch was still on the first page. "Are you reading or just distracting me?"

Pitch's smile was visible despite his efforts to hide it. "It's more that your curiosity is distracting me."

"I just wanna know what you're reading!" Jack shouted playfully.

"The suspense is killing you, isn't it?"

"Yes!"

Pitch closed the book and tilted his head downward so that he was peering at him over the glasses. Jack stifled a laugh. Then Pitch crawled over so that he was sitting beside him, settling in and opening the book again so Jack could read the title. "Satisfied?"

"Really? You haven't read iDracula/i?"

"I'm fairly slow in catching up on what's popular."

"This was published three hundred years ago. You're a bit behind."

"I said I was slow." Mock irritation crept into Pitch's tone as he turned to the first page again. "Now can I actually read it?"

"Of course you can read. It's good for you." There was a pause as Pitch focused on the page again. Jack nestled against Pitch, making himself comfortable despite the shivering. Eventually, Pitch didn't notice the shaking anymore. Either that, or it had stopped completely. Pitch read, getting a few pages down before Jack interrupted with, "Wait, turn back!"

"Have you been reading over my shoulder?"

"I can't read over your shoulder if I'm on your shoulder."

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Being beautiful."

"After you stop being funny."

Pitch closed the book and feigned glaring down at Jack. Jack wasn't fazed. He knew the difference between Pitch's genuine displeasure and Pitch's attempt at seeming displeased a little too well. "I am not funny."

"Uh huh? You're scary as hell, right?"

"If you weren't tied up right now, you'd be getting a surprise."

"I'm sure it wouldn't be much of a surprise."

"Are you intentionally antagonizing me?" Jack's mischievous grin did him in. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to embrace the boy and take him into his arms. "Would it trouble you to postpone this session?"

"A little, but I'll forgive myself soon enough."

"Excellent." The bonds disappeared and before Pitch knew what he was doing, he'd pulled Jack across his lap and they were pulling each other's clothes off.

Pitch could never grow tired of running his hands, tongue, and lips over Jack's body. He could never grow tired of the chill of his skin, the dips in his back, the softness of his hair, the beauty of his moans. He could never grow tired of Jack Frost. He held the young Guardian to him, pressing him into the mattress as he thrust into him. Jack's noises were music to Pitch's ears, the boy's white fists clenching the sheets a pleasure to behold. Pitch ran a hand over Jack's ribcage and down to his hip, where the Nightmare King gripped his body so he could thrust harder. Jack's grip on the sheets tightened, his groans growing louder. "Bite," Jack suddenly gasped out.

"Say that again." Pitch wanted to make sure he'd heard correctly.

"Dammit Pitch, bite!" Pitch grinned as he obliged him, sinking his teeth into the boy's shoulder. Jack cried out, a hand finding its place in Pitch's hair as the Boogeyman thrust harder.

And Pitch was suddenly reminded of yet another thing he could never grow tired of: making Jack scream. Oh, how he'd missed that game.

Unseen Forces

"Something doesn't feel right," Pitch muttered to himself. He felt Rin twitching at his back. Fortunately, Rin was in the sort of mood where Pitch didn't have to worry about turning his back on him. He had no choice but to keep his back to Rin. Rin was literally clinging to his back. But something was bothering Pitch. He sensed something was amiss, almost the same way he'd sensed that Jack had been hurt before finding him in the North Pole. This sensation felt much stronger, however. Much, much stronger. It penetrated his bones in a way that made him restless. He paced nervously, dragging the dependent Rin with him. "Something feels . . . I'm not sure." He spoke aloud, not caring whether Rin was listening or not. "It feels like something is awake. Or has awakened."

"Can I kill it?" Rin muttered against Pitch's back.

The Boogeyman's brow furrowed. "In this state? You'd have to work a lot harder to impress an opponent. You're hardly intimidating me." Pitch and Jack had grown more comfortable with Rin's appearances, especially once Rin learned that they knew how to keep him under control. His self-destruction had come to a head and he rarely challenged Pitch anymore. The one incident of being locked in a cage had been enough to make Rin realize just how little tolerance Pitch had for those sorts of thing. And Pitch tolerated Rin about as much as he tolerated the Guardians. He did it out of necessity, but he did not enjoy it nor did he ever look forward to it. He did these things for Jack and Jack alone.

"I just like how warm you are," Rin uttered honestly. Pitch's lips twitched as he resisted the urge to smile. Sometimes Rin sounded so much like Jack it was easy to forget which one he was dealing with. "And I'm bored. Can't I freeze a town or something?"

"It's broad daylight and it's August. I doubt you'll enjoy the heat and sun, just as I doubt you'll find a town worthy of freezing." And that was the extent of most of their conversations. Pitch almost felt nervous about the days in which those excuses would not be good enough. Still, the overwhelming feeling of unrest kept him moving.

"You will rue the day I find friends other than you."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I'm a lot more charming than you, Nightmare Man!" Again, the defensive tone almost reminded Pitch of Jack. But Jack never called him Nightmare Man. That was purely Rin. "Not like you like having me around anyway."

"I liked you a lot more when you didn't have a personality. Once you developed one, whether using part of Jack's or coming up with your own entirely, you became a problem child."

"Well, boohoo. I'm so sorry I corrupted your little ray of sunshine, you miserable old fool."

Funny. He didn't sound the least bit sorry. "Hush now. I'm thinking."

"That's all you ever do. Think. Can't waste a minute of your time on your precious toy's shadow," Rin grumbled, his bitterness showing.

Still, Pitch couldn't take him seriously. It was hard to do when the boy was hanging off of him. "Jack is not a toy, and you are not his shadow."

"And I'm not yours either. Yeah, I got it. Just wait till you go to sleep, Nightmare Man."

Pitch ignored the threat, knowing full well it was idle. The two were quiet after that. Pitch continued to pace, wondering what had awakened that could cause such a disruption within him.

"Pitch, are you sure I can leave you like this?" Jack asked, kneeling beside the bed. Pitch was resting in the darkness beneath their bed. He'd grown so unnaturally exhausted pondering the origin of the odd sensation that had been troubling him. Jack wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go to the meeting the Guardians had called without Pitch. He couldn't not go to the meeting, but he didn't like how weak Pitch was and didn't want to leave him. And Pitch flat-out refused to attend with him.

"I have experienced worse, Jack. Just be quick about your business. Get back here safely." At least he was being his usual possessive self, no matter how tired he sounded.

"If you're sure." He probably shouldn't be agreeing with Pitch on this one. He should probably fight for Pitch to come with him instead of hiding under their bed.

"Get moving before I decide to send half my Nightmares with you, you accident-prone boy." Jack smiled. Comments like that almost made him want to tell Pitch that he loved him. He withheld the statement though, chuckling as he flew from the lair on an icy wind.

This was the first contact he'd made with the full throng of Guardians since he'd left North's Workshop. He hadn't wanted to see them until he was sure he had Rin under control. When he arrived, he encountered Tooth first. It figured. He still felt incredibly guilty for Rin having made a pass at her and scaring her half to death.

When she noticed his presence, she flew to him immediately. "Jack, I'm sorry—."

"It's okay." He knew what she was apologizing for, just as he'd known why she'd said the things she'd said. He just didn't want to be reminded of those things. Hopefully if he accepted the apology, they could just forget about the incident and move on. With that in mind, he whispered, "I'm sorry, too."

She looked uneasy at first, but the tension seemed to have lifted when she smiled. They grasped hands in mutual acceptance, then made their way to the others. As long as Jack could keep things under wraps with Rin, this meeting should go smoothly. He really hoped it wouldn't be a long meeting. Pitch's condition worried him.

The others seemed normal enough. Bunny had brought along a basket of eggs and was painting while North gathered everyone together. Yetis and elves were wandering about their business. Tooth had her group of fairies at her side and resumed giving them orders after the chat with Jack. Sandy . . . was floating just off the ground taking a nap. Yep! Everything seemed normal, thought Jack.

That is, until North started to address the group. "Something very strange is happening across world," North started with.

Jack squinted, the topic sounding all too familiar already. "Let me guess: odd sensation in the belly that something ancient has awoken?" he asked.

North looked at him like the youngest Guardian had read his mind. Then Bunny interjected, "Once again, our productions are being halted because of gut feelings."

"It's not just North who feels it, though," Jack grumbled. Bunny actually stopped painting and his head swiveled on his shoulders like Jack had muttered some obscenity. Jack wanted to make a remark, but couldn't come up with one before North started talking again.

"There are storms popping up in odd locations on planet. Storms that aren't due for another season at least. And they are growing in size and number. Very disturbing."

"Storms? Like, hurricanes?" Tooth asked.

"Not just hurricanes. And not just weather phenomena either. An epidemic has appeared on North American continent and is spreading fast."

"Not to be the idiotic newbie, here, but how does this concern us?" Jack asked. "Where are these things coming from that warrant us fretting over it?"

"That is problem. We do not know the source. All we know is that these events, while natural disasters, are coming together in rather unnatural patterns. They are getting progressively bigger, and I wonder if they will continue to do so," North explained. "While our duties are geared towards protecting children, something is happening. Something very strange is happening, and it is giving me concerns."

"And belly aches," Bunny uttered, picking up a new egg.

"So what do we do about this?" Jack asked.

"One of us could go see—."

"That's not an invitation for you to volunteer," Bunny directed at Jack. "Wouldn't want to worry your boyfriend, now." Jack glared at the overgrown rabbit, again wanting to comment.

"Bunny!" Tooth hissed. Jack turned to her, nodding a 'thank you.'

"As I was saying," North said loudly, a hint of agitation in his voice, "we could do that or we could all take a little time to investigate."

Sandy waved his hands at that last bit, so the group determined what his vote was. Jack chuckled. He hadn't even realized the little guy had woken up.

"Traveling as a group does sound safer given how the last expedition went," Tooth agreed quietly. Jack nodded, wincing and blocking out the memories that had given him so many nightmares.

"Then what are we waiting for? Into sleigh!"

Jack wanted to laugh. No matter how dire the situation, he was fairly sure North would always be excited to drive his sleigh. Jack honestly couldn't blame him; it was an awesome ride. But something was nagging at him, keeping him from feeling even the least bit excited about spending some time with his friends. He really just wanted to get back to—.

A burning sensation tore across his arm. He let out an involuntary scream, clutching at the region where his skin had turned gray. It felt like his forearm was on fire, and a loud humming started in his head. At first he panicked, thinking that Rin was trying to overpower him. But there was no heat in his eyes. Usually, when Rin took over, his eyes would grow so hot Jack thought they would melt out of his skull. No, there was just the burning and the abnormal humming in the back of his head.

He hadn't even realized his knees had hit the ground, or that the Guardians and a pair of yetis were surrounding him now. He'd squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, digging his fingernails into his arm and hoping that his own frost could cool the sensation. It didn't. Then a voice, as clear and loud as if one of the people surrounding him had spoken, shouted, "Pitch!" He knew that voice. It was a mirror to his own. Rin. Rin was speaking to him.

"Oh no," Jack gasped out. He didn't take the time to ponder what that meant. The only thing that registered was that something was happening and Rin was warning him about it. He'd needed only to say the one word: Pitch. Pitch was in trouble.

The pain in his arm was suddenly irrelevant. The many reassuring hands on his shoulders suddenly felt smothering, the questions and statements of his friends suddenly running together in his head and becoming gibberish. He didn't have time. He knew he didn't have enough time, somehow. He simply got up and ran to the nearest window and jumped out onto the wind.

"Tooth, what just happened?" Bunny stared accusingly at her. Like she knew. Before she could answer, something dawned on Bunny. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened. "Tell me he's not—."

"Bunny—."

"Toothiana, you tell me he's not what I think he is right now!"

"Discussion can wait!" North interrupted, stepping between them. "To the sleigh! We follow Jack!"

"I'll meet you there, mate." Bunny tapped his foot twice. A tunnel opened up just as North nodded and stomped off. Sandy followed North. Tooth prepared to do the same when Bunny grabbed her wrist. "No, you're explaining yourself along the way." Then she was flying down the tunnel after him, fighting to keep up with his pace.

"I tried to tell you—!"

"I see now why you didn't. Why would you hide this from the rest of us?" It was amazing how they could still talk while moving as fast as they were.

"I was trying to protect Jack—."

"It's not Jack I'm going to murder for this!"

"You think he'll forgive you if you hurt Pitch?"

Bunny didn't even slow down as he looked back at her while she struggled to keep up. "I don't care if he forgives me or not."

"Bunny—!"

"If Pitch has made Jack into a Fearling, I don't care who I piss off! Have you forgotten the Great War?"

"Have you forgotten that Jack is our friend—?"

"He's a bloody ignorant one, accepting the affection of someone who means him no good and ignoring everything we've done for him!"

Tooth quieted then, realizing why Bunny was really angry. He was jealous. He had unresolved feelings for Jack and he was jealous. There was no point trying to talk sense into him now.

She only hoped he didn't act out of spite towards Jack if someone got to Pitch before he did.

Sandy and North arrived at the lair before Bunny and Tooth, but none of them arrived before Jack. Jack had flown faster than North could drive and Bunny could run.

When the four arrived at the lair, they were taken aback by its emptiness. Pitch's presence had a looming quality. There was always that feeling of being watched and assessed when he was around. There was always that spinal reaction to someone or something brushing against one's senses without even making a full-bodied appearance. There was always that fear, that barrage of shadows that clung to and billowed out from Pitch Black. When the Guardians arrived, those sensations were gone, gutted like someone had scooped out the innards of the place Jack had come to call home. So empty was the lair of the Nightmare King that they could hear each other breathing. Sandy thought that if he listened close enough, he could hear their hearts beating rapidly.

They found Jack in the bedroom. They'd almost gotten lost looking for the place, crossing bridges and jumping habitually at the slightest movement of their own shadows. Even though the lair was empty, they still remembered whose shadows these used to be.

Jack was kneeling where the bed once rested. The iron frame, mattress, and sheets lay scattered haphazardly across the room. It was as if something had simply picked the piece of furniture up and flung it out of its way. That was impressive in a horrifying way, especially given what Jack was staring at. Before the boy was a small pool of blood and a series of thin, red lines where someone had been dragged through it. The trail ended quite abruptly, not even making it to the room's entrance. It was hardly noticeable. What really caught their attention was the claw marks, where the Guardians assumed Pitch had resisted. It reminded Sandy of how Pitch had been dragged away by the Nightmares.

Jack's eyes were wide with fright, his chest heaving and his hands fisted against his scalp. He looked completely wild as he stared down at the blood and marks. Through the wildness, Sandy thought he caught a sense of brokenness within Jack. As they continued to hone in on Jack's state, Sandy picked up on how much the youngest Guardian was shaking. Finally, he spoke, "I shouldn't have left him."

"Jack, don't blame—," North started.

"I shouldn't have left him!" Jack shouted, his fists slamming against his thighs. He covered his face as tears frosted in his eyes. "He knew something was wrong. I should've been here."

"Why, so you could get dragged off too?" Bunny spoke so snidely that Sandy was irritated for Jack.

But Jack didn't respond to Bunny. "I have to find him."

Tooth moved forward. "Jack, how do you know—?"

"He's not dead," Jack muttered through his fingers.

"How do you—?"

"I just know! He's not dead!" Jack screamed, his fists meeting his thighs again. He kept his eyes closed as he fought to control his breathing. It was a losing battle as far as Sandy could tell. Sandy wanted to approach him, but thought better of it. Jack was just wild enough that he might lash out.

"I'll help you—," Tooth started to say, but as she came forward, Bunny stepped in her path of travel.

"No, you've helped enough," he growled. Then he turned his attention back to Jack. "You'd have to be a fool to challenge anyone strong enough to drag the Boogeyman away, and you'd have to be an even bigger fool to want to do anything about it. I'd say good riddance."

"Well no one asked you." Jack's voice was low, even, but above all emotionless. Sandy examined the boy's face. Tears fought for their freedom from the boy's pale lids, but he didn't so much as blink. He showed no feeling. It was as if he were . . . fighting. Fighting some imaginary force that only he could sense. The look disturbed Sandy in ways he hadn't thought possible. He went to express his thoughts using his sand, but hardly anyone was looking his way. He was being ignored, yet again.

Sandy didn't have time to try to get the other Guardians' attention as Bunny fired back, "Well it looks like we've found the fool in the group!"

Sandy was so shocked by Bunny's cruelty that he almost didn't hear Jack say, "I don't need your help."

"Well that's bloody good, mate, because no one here is gonna lift a finger to save Pitch Black!"

"Bunny!" Tooth and North cried simultaneously.

Sandy simply watched Jack. He did a double take when he thought he saw the boy's skin turn ashen. He blinked twice when the area surrounding his eyes darkened to a menacing black. When Jack Frost opened his eyes, Sandy went completely still. "Well, I will."

The boy that gripped the crook and stood slowly before turning to face them had black-rimmed eyes, black scleras, and golden irises. A collective gasp escaped the Guardians as they realized what this meant: Jack was part Fearling. Not wholly Fearling. If that were the case, then he would have this appearance permanently. The shock that emanated from North and Sandy was almost overwhelmed by the fear in Tooth and the rage in Bunny. Though Sandy wanted to really look at the others and make sure he had sensed correctly, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the Fearling before them.

"Jack . . .," North's voice trailed off as he tried to speak to the boy.

"I. Am not. JACK!" the boy shouted, making everyone jump as he swung the staff and blasted the wall with ice. The frost even seemed tainted by the Fearling, faint lines of black easily traced throughout the pattern he'd created. Aggression bled from the boy's stance and facial expression. He looked completely insane. "The gray bastard makes that clear every time I see him! I don't need you to remind me! My name is Rin. Rin! Not your precious, annoying, perfect in every way Jack Frost!"

"Then why are you so eager to help him?" Bunny asked. He tried to maintain the anger he'd born before this Fearling's emergence, but Sandy sensed something else in his tone. Was that sadness?

"Because he's all I've got," Rin answered. Now that definitely was a sad, truthful answer. Sandy could tell from the boy's expression. "And Jack and I will find him. With or without you."

And Jack was gone again. Or rather, Rin was gone. He flew past them on the wind, leaving the four alone with their thoughts. Sandy waited for the others to speak, but they all stood in a state of utter astonishment and despondency. Even Bunny's anger began to ebb as reality set it: Jack had been tainted by Pitch's shadows, and he was off to do battle with something that could potentially destroy both him and Pitch.

"What to do . . .," North pondered. It wasn't a question. Not really. It was more of an empty response to a thought no one had yet formulated.

"We do nothing," Bunny muttered, almost inaudibly. No one responded. "He's chosen his side."

Even in this state of shock, Sandy knew there was no way his sarcastic yet well-meaning friend could possibly mean such a cold statement. And yet no one recanted the comment. Suddenly, Sandy's chest felt heavy as he wondered if they were really going to stand aside as Jack possibly flew to his doom.

Deals with Devils

Jack emerged from within himself in a forest, the humming of Rin's possession having ceased for the time being. He glanced about, trying to figure out where exactly he was. The pain of losing his friends' support hit him then. His chest felt compressed and his innards felt like they were twisting from the loss. He hadn't expected that from them. He hadn't expected such rejection. It was truly agonizing. He felt like his was in Antarctica all over again, only this time Pitch Black wasn't there trying to talk him into a deal.

The idea of losing Pitch too was just as torturous. His guts twisted more as he thought of what might be happening to him at this very moment. Were these creatures anything like the monkey men? Would they hold Pitch down and bloody him beyond recognition? Would he end up comatose for days like Jack had?

Jack doubled over, wrapping his arms around his waist at the very thought of what had happened. The phantom restraints on his wrists reminded him less of the attack and more of Pitch now, but that only succeeded in making him more desperate to find his partner. At that moment, what the others thought of him didn't really matter. What mattered was finding his Boogeyman. The Guardians he'd deal with later.

He rolled up his sleeve, tracing the raised, tingling gray skin with his fingers. He closed his eyes, and the humming at the back of his head started up again. He heard the voice, the voice of Rin. "So we're working together on this?" Rin asked.

"I don't think we have any other options." Jack sighed. "Do you know where he is?"

"Not exactly."

"You know he's alive, but you don't know how to find him?" Jack tried not to sound panicked, but what was the point? Rin was part of him. He would know regardless.

Rin chuckled. "I don't have an exact location there, Mr. Perfection. But I can sense him. I did spend centuries swimming around in his body, you know."

Jack knew Rin purposefully worded that to make him uncomfortable. "You've gotta have a stronger motivation than just not wanting to lose your only acquaintance. Pitch borders on tolerating and despising you."

There was silence as the humming quieted. Jack worried that he'd driven Rin to abstain from helping. He was reassured when Rin spoke again, "It's simple, really. Whether the two of you like it or not, I'm technically yours. I belong to both of you in some way. If one of you dies, so do I. Because I'm inhabiting your body, your death is my death. But even though I'm inside you," Jack flinched at those words, "Pitch owns me. He can control me at any time—."

"And yet he doesn't—."

"Because of you, dipshit! He would never do anything to hurt you!" Rin's last words were bitter. Then he resumed his explanation. "But his death also means my death, for the simple fact that I was tied to him for so long that I became a part of him."

"And if you stay inside me?"

"The same will happen." Rin was quiet again. Then he piped up within Jack, suddenly terrifyingly chipper. "Isn't this all so very exciting? I've been dying to get out and moving!"

"Poor choice of words, man."

"Thank you."

"What?" Jack was confused at the sudden show of gratitude.

"You called me a man and not a thing. Thank you."

Jack felt sad that something so simple could make Rin seem a little more relatable. If he thought about it for long, though, he could find several things that he and Rin had in common. The fear of being left alone, for example. Rin's was just a little fiercer than Jack's was, now. And this realization didn't make it any easier to resist trusting the very same personality that had decided it would be fun to cut Jack's body open. "So if Pitch can control you, why can't he remove you? I mean, he saved me from black sand—."

"Black sand and shadows are very different. There's a chance that removing me from you could kill you. Of course, the tall, gray bastard wouldn't have that." He sounded so hostile when he spoke of Pitch's feelings for Jack that Jack attributed it to jealousy. That really was the only explanation he could come up with. "Now let's get down to business."

"There's something I never thought I'd hear from you."

"The sooner we find Pitch, the sooner I get to kill some people."

Jack looked about warily, as if afraid someone might hear. It was a silly gesture, given he was completely alone. "You think I'm going to just let you murder people while I just sit back and watch?"

"Dear, dear Jack. Sweet Jack. Adorable, innocent, little Jack—."

"This can't be good."

"You haven't even begun to unleash my wrath upon the world. Unfortunately, for that to happen, I would need your verbal permission."

Jack thought long and hard about what Rin was telling him. He could give Rin complete control of his body. Rin could go from a small-scale possession to a full-on one and all it took was Jack's permission. Jack wasn't willing to truly harm anyone. Rin had more than proved that he was.

Jack gripped his staff in hand. He knew Rin's ice was stronger. Was Rin? More importantly, would Rin let Jack have his body back when he was done . . . doing whatever it was he would do?

"I'll tell you what," Jack said, "if things get sour, I'll consider that."

"Ooo, but you and I both know things will get sour."

"Don't count on it. I won't do that unless we're in serious danger. I can't afford to give my body completely to you."

"Oh baby. You just made my day with that statement!"

"Shut up. Let's find Pitch before he really does get killed."

"Is your body ready?"

"Seriously Rin?"

"You don't understand. I had to say it." Rin chuckled again. "Now follow my lead."

And then, Jack's arm was under Rin's control as he pointed Jack onto their path.

Light. Pure sunlight. Pitch had forgotten how terrible it felt on his skin. He didn't dare open his eyes. He didn't dare move. He just stayed put, surrounded by sunlight. He couldn't feel a single shadow, or else he would be fighting for his freedom. Despite the number it had taken to capture him, he would fight. From what he could tell, the light they used as his prison cell was being reflected off many surfaces onto him. They had to be underground, or at the very least somewhere dark enough to warrant such ancient contraptions. But the sun had to set at some point.

His wrists were shackled. His side bore marks where the creatures had dug their claws into him while dragging him from his lair. The thought of such a humiliating display made him want to move and fight, but he was pinned in one spot by the burning sun. And it wasn't like the claw marks were his only injuries. He was positive that they weren't quite done roughing him up yet. These weren't just brutes, though. He knew that much. They weren't going to make his death quick and easy. They liked pain as much as he did, but they were willing to elongate it more than he thought reasonable.

The pain in his side made him think of Jack. The thought of Jack's cold hands soothing such injuries made his situation a little more bearable as well as more desperate. His captors hadn't said a word to him yet, but surely they knew of the boy. No doubt they knew all about the Guardians and would attack them. But only one Guardian mattered to him, and Pitch prayed the boy wasn't rash enough to come after him. Prayer. That was something he hadn't done in a very long time.

His lids tightened at the thought as he fought the sensation to look around. He had to rest, had to appear weak. He had to keep up this façade of vulnerability long enough to warrant their removing him from the light. But what if they didn't?

What if Jack did come?

Fear was a luxury Pitch Black couldn't afford to have himself. That didn't mean it wasn't there, however. At that moment, he feared the loyalty of the winter spirit to whom he'd grown attached. I can handle this, Jack, he thought to himself. Don't come. Whatever you do, don't come for me. I can't always protect us both.

Those last thoughts triggered enough memories in him that he had to grit his teeth against his fear and agony. He cursed his feelings. He cursed them for making him pathetic and dependent on something as uncontrollable as another spirit. But he wasn't quite sure if he regretted them. In other such situations, he certainly had. But Jack had always been different.

Don't come for me. I can't always protect us both.

North rummaged around in his sleigh, grumbling to himself. He, Sandy, and Tooth still hadn't left Burgess, though Bunny had returned to his work in the Warren. Tooth watched him anxiously.

"North, what are you doing?"

"What we should've done as soon as Jack left," he said without looking up. He continued searching, lifting up the seats. Tooth hadn't realized the sleigh's seats doubled as trunks. "We are going after him."

Sandy stood beside where Tooth was hovering, symbols flashing above his head. He was asking if they were leaving without Bunny.

"Sandy wants to know if Bunny is part of this plan," Tooth asked for Sandy, because there was no way North had looked up long enough to catch the Sandman's question.

"He will come on his own. He's upset, but he's not vindictive."

Tooth wanted to believe that. "Well, if we're following Jack, what are you doing now?"

North stood up then, tossing something to her. "Catch!"

She flew forward, catching and crushing the items to her chest before she realized what it was she was holding. "How did you . . . ?" she mused, glancing over the curved, leather scabbards and jeweled hilts of two swords. Her swords. Her scimitars that she'd lost after the Great War. The war against Pitch Black that had taken place centuries ago, when the Guardians were greater in number and the Man in the Moon was more active as a leader. "How, North?"

"Been working on them for some time. Figured you should be prepared if a situation like this should ever arise." He looked up, as if he was just remembering something. "Although, I never thought this situation would ever come to be."

None of them had, but she couldn't deny that this was a battle she wasn't willing to enter into unarmed. And North had made almost exact replicas of her swords. She undid the belt that bound the two scabbards together and buckled them around her waist. They were light, and though it had been hundreds of years it still felt right to have a weapon on each hip. Once they were comfortably in place she flew over to North and hugged him. His arms almost completely swallowed her before she pulled back and placed a light kiss on his cheek. She smiled at the blush. Moments like this reminded her of how scared she'd been when they'd first met. He'd been the first person she'd trusted since she'd lost her family, and he somehow continued to amaze her with his kindness. "Let's find him."

At that, Sandy and Tooth got in the sleigh with North and set off after Jack.

Rin had directed Jack to a cave somewhere in South America. His arm had long since grown used to Rin's manipulation of it, and it hardly burned anymore. The feeling of Rin's control had soon become a numbing sensation, like his arm had fallen asleep. "Why is it always a cave?" Rin asked. "Can't sketchy kidnappers choose a better, less obvious hideout than a cave?"

Jack shook his head, the thought only bringing back memories of Pitch. Odd, that in order to save Pitch he had to actively tell himself not to think of him. He simply didn't want to imagine what was being done to him.

He gave the perpetrators a little credit, however, for choosing a cave that tunneled beneath a pyramid. The thought of pyramids in South America still seemed strange to him, but mostly because humans tended to focus more on Egyptian pyramids. He stayed in the shadows as he proceeded into the earth, hoping that whatever creature had taken Pitch didn't expect company. Surprise was his greatest ally in this mission.

The humming that was Rin's presence made it hard for him to hear, though. It distracted him in ways that made him more likely to slip and mess up somehow. Moving quietly was nearly impossible if his mind wasn't clear as well.

"Pipe down a bit, man," Jack whispered to Rin.

"I can't, I'm excited!" he responded a little too enthusiastically.

"Well, you're going to get us killed if you keep distracting me."

"You're not much fun for the Guardian of Fun."

The humming died down, but Rin's words once again made him think of Pitch. Pitch had told him almost the exact same thing once.

He gathered his thoughts, focusing on keeping his steps small and quiet. He rounded corners, training his eyes and growing accustomed to darkness. Yet another thing that reminded him of Pitch. Jack had to find him.

"What have we here?" a voice murmured in the shadows behind him. Jack didn't recognize the voice. It was shrill, and each syllable had made his spine tingle. Jack stilled, not daring to turn around or search for the voice. Just from the sound of it, he really didn't want to see its origin.

"I know this one's face. The winter spirit the monkeys almost did away with," another spoke from in front of him, its voice deeper and yet still shrill enough to send tremors of fear through Jack. They knew he was there. He hadn't even made a sound and yet they'd known he was there.

"A poor choice of minion, if you ask me. He doesn't even look decently scarred from the experience," the first said. If they only knew.

It was then that one of them grabbed his wrists and pulled him backwards, the other yanking his staff from his grip. Panic rushed through him, but only briefly. He trembled, but he had his wits about him. That alone was a comfort in his mind, an improvement upon what had happened the last time he'd been attacked. He shoved aside those thoughts. He couldn't afford to lose focus. He could tremble. He could feel the fear. He could endure all of that, but he could not succumb to it. Working with Pitch to best his phobia had taught him that much.

The one that had grabbed him examined the gray on his arm, which Jack had left exposed in order for Rin to have an easier time contacting him. The Guardian could feel its cool breath on his neck, and that did more to frighten him than the loose grip on his arms at this point. "Oh, but this one is very interesting. It has been marked by the dark one with the shadows."

"Should we reunite him with his friend?"

Jack's eyes widened as he finally caught a glimpse of these creatures. They were completely shrouded in dark cloth, no parts of their bodies visible save for their hands. Their hands . . . weren't hands at all. They were nothing but bone. He looked up as he was met with round red eyes and what looked like a beak mask jutting out of a cowl. Jack wanted to scream, but it got lodged in his throat. He'd never seen these creatures before, but there was something terrifyingly familiar about the way they made him feel.

All this time, he'd been idiotic enough to think that the Nightmare King was the only manipulator of fear. As loneliness crept into his veins and awakened Rin's humming, he knew he couldn't have been more wrong.

Possession

Pitch could feel him before he dared to open his eyes. His muscles tightened as he squinted and clenched his jaw against the taste of fear. Jack's fear. The light blinded him briefly. It took longer than he would've liked for his eyes to adjust and find Jack.

Somehow, he'd known his prayer wasn't going to be answered.

"Aren't you going to say hello to your friend, oh dark one?" one of Jack's captors said, the other laughing. Each held the boy by an arm as Jack struggled against their bony grip.

Pitch's muscles loosed as he pulled against his shackles, which were tethered to a chain that fed through an iron circle in the ground at his feet. His growls turned feral as the sunlight burned him and a third skeletal creature grabbed that chain and pulled him back to his place. He felt the chain being locked into place, sealing him in that spot. He still didn't stop pulling, rubbing his wrists raw on the manacles as he ignored the searing pain in his side. "Unhand him!"

"That is the plan," the other spoke. Then they lifted the young Guardian off the ground and pressed his forearms to the wall, trapping his wrists with a set of hanging cuffs. Pitch didn't realize he was gasping for air as he watched Jack's eyes widen and his chest heave. When the creatures let go of Jack and the winter spirit was hanging on the wall, Pitch could almost feel the tremors running through the boy's body from across the room.

The fear was so disgusting that Pitch was willing to bite his own tongue off just so he didn't have to taste it. He mindlessly scolded Jack, "What were you thinking? You shouldn't have come!"

"And leave you to die? Fat chance!" Jack put up a good front, but his frustration with Pitch's words had an undertone of terror so painfully obvious that Pitch felt helpless. The Boogeyman tugged on his manacles again, but they didn't budge. Meanwhile, Jack just hung vulnerably on the wall while one of his captors stepped towards Pitch. The creature was holding Jack's staff. Don't break it, Pitch thought. He was almost mouthing the words when the creature swung the crook in a wide arch, the wood striking the backs of Pitch's knees. He snarled and fell to the ground, bruising himself as he did so. He closed his eyes against the jarring feeling in his spine, gritting his teeth against the urge to shout.

"This is a nice tool. I think I'll keep it," the captor said, tapping the ground with the staff. Then the hooked end of the crook met Pitch's neck, lifting his body upright. "Open your eyes, wouldn't want you to miss the fun."

Pitch gazed back at Jack, whose horror was becoming more evident. Then Pitch's focus shifted from Jack to another of the creatures beside him. It was holding a wooden box in his hand. Pitch felt a sour, boiling sensation in the pit of his gut form at the thought of what might be in that box. "Our master seems to think you owe us a life or two."

"For the monkeys you dispatched," another chimed in from across the room. Pitch hadn't counted how many there were when he'd been captured. He'd just known there were too many for him to fight alone.

"Their orders were to take out the Guardians one at a time," the one holding Pitch's chain declared.

"But then you got involved," yet another from the other side of the room stated.

"You could've stayed out of this whole thing, but it seems you have a tenderness for this pale one," the one with the wooden box lifted a hand to run a bony finger down Jack's cheek. The slightest whimper escaped Jack's lips, making the creatures chuckle and Pitch want to wretch.

"Just let him go," Pitch pleaded. "I killed the monkey men. If your master wants revenge, take it out on me. Just let. The boy. Go."

"Can't!" they said in unison. They chuckled at themselves as Jack shivered uncontrollably, Pitch's eyes meeting his again. Suddenly, Pitch was aware of his own heartbeat.

"He is to die regardless. He is a Guardian."

"But the two of you make a fine payment for the loss of the monkeys that our master took under his wing."

"An eye for an eye!"

"We just want you to watch."

"NO!" Pitch roared, flinging himself against his restraints again. A solid whack to his head from the staff forced him to remain on the ground. They were laughing. They were still laughing at him when he squinted against the sunlight and stared desperately at Jack. Jack's eyes were closed now, his chin resting against his chest. Pitch squeezed his eyes shut, moments away from being consumed by the agony within him.

"The Nightmare King is afraid!" one cried joyously, the rest repeating and turning it into a chorus of shrill, ghoulish voices.

He was afraid. Pitch Black was indeed very, very afraid.

"Which tool should we use?" the creatures began debating. They couldn't decide between pulling out all of Jack's teeth and simply slicing him open from neck to groin. The cloud of anxiety in Jack's chest, the numbness in his arm, and the humming in his head almost drowned out the voices.

"Let me out, doofus!" Rin screamed.

Jack trembled against the cold wall, completely surrounded by darkness. Meanwhile Pitch was contained in a circle of light, just out of reach of shadows. Jack glanced up quickly, staring pointedly at one of the many mirrors being used to reflect sunlight onto his partner. Then he glanced quickly at the creature holding his staff, standing just outside of the sunlight Pitch was in. Pitch looked injured, the light having blistered the Nightmare King in ways Jack hadn't thought possible, but if Jack could free him . . . .

"Jack, I can save us! Just let me out!" Trusting Rin was a risk Jack hadn't wanted to take, but this situation was dire. He and Pitch were going to die here, and no one was coming for them. Whether he liked it or not, he needed Rin.

"I give you permission, Rin," he whispered. Suddenly, his whole body felt like it was on fire.

A pulse shot through the temple, awakening something inside Pitch. Then there was silence. Complete and utter silence. Pitch opened his eyes, a streak of panic falling on him as he looked at Jack's body slumping forward as if he were unconscious. But then he saw the shadows creeping into the boy's white hair, turning each strand black. He saw the shadows creeping over his skin before bleeding into the blue of his hoody. Pitch glanced at the boy's hands and feet, noticing that his nails had lengthened just enough to form claws. White skin turned a shade more ashen than Pitch had ever seen, and he was almost horrified at the thought of what the boy's face may have become.

A dark laugh escaped the boy's body, making his whole frame shake. The creatures looked too stunned to react to this sudden change. The laughter grew louder before it stopped abruptly and the boy raised his head. It took every ounce of strength for Pitch not to gasp at the true face of Rin. The eyes were the same, but the black surrounding them was taking up almost enough space to make it look like he was masked. And his teeth . . . they'd grown half an inch in length and had sharpened into fangs. He seemed proud of his form, thin lips pulled back to reveal a terrifyingly sharp grin that easily rivaled Pitch's. One name fit that face better than Rin: Fearling.

"Let's play a game," Rin sang, his voice low, even, and yet lively. Before the skeletal creatures could react, Rin disappeared into the shadows, leaving his manacles dangling. The creatures then flew into a panic, searching for their lost prisoner. They began shouting, the noise, shock, and sunlight making it hard for Pitch to follow what was happening. Then, the sunlight was gone. For the first time since he was captured, he was in the darkness again. He inhaled appreciatively, the dark soothing his blistered and mottled skin as he caught a glimpse of Rin knocking the reflectors aside before disappearing into the shadows again. Pitch followed suit, his wrists free of the shackles as soon as he took to the darkness.

The interior of the pyramid filled with Rin's laughter as the creatures flew about in search of their now freed prisoners. Pitch knew that he and Rin could leave at any moment, but no. Pitch wasn't going anywhere just yet. He hastily estimated how many they were up against: fifteen. Maybe fewer than fifteen, but certainly no more. Rage seeped into his chest and limbs as he chose his first target.

Rin moved first, dropping from the darkness onto the shrouded head of the creature holding his crook. He straddled the skeletal shoulders, placed his hands on either side of the creature's face, and broke its neck before grabbing the staff out of its crumbling hand. The being shriveled into a pile of dust before Rin started firing bolts at the other shrieking fiends that now charged at him. "Freeze tag!" he shouted maliciously as dark frost shot from the crook and shattered another creature.

Meanwhile, Pitch closed in on the creature that had been holding the wooden box full of torture tools from behind. Pitch allowed the shadows to elongate his appearance so that he towered over the fiend. When the creature realized the threat, it was too late. Pitch had completely covered it in shadows and began applying pressure, slowly crushing the creature using only darkness. Its screams turned to squeaks in a matter of seconds as the shadows constricted around it. This was the only kill he intended to take his time with. Pitch wanted the other creatures to see what he would do to any and all who threatened his Guardian, because clearly the removal of all thirty-two teeth from one's head hadn't been warning enough.

When Pitch was finished, he dropped the remains of the creature on the ground and prepared to return to the shadows. That's when a fiend came flying at him, arms raised and prepared to attack. Its retaliation was short-lived, for soon it was impaled and pinned to the wall by a curved sword with a jeweled hilt. Pitch started at the familiar weapon, not having seen it for centuries. However, he didn't feel the slightest bit endangered as he pulled it from the creature's bones and tossed it back to its owner, the twit. She saluted him before she continued fighting alongside the Cossack, Sanderson flying in and lashing at their foes with his whips. He didn't know when they'd arrived, but for once was not irritated at the sight of them.

Catching sight of Rin, who was still shooting bolts of ice at the enemy, Pitch conjured his scythe and dove into the fight once more. With the additional help of three more Guardians, they tore through the creatures at a rate that wouldn't have been possible had only Rin and Pitch been fighting. The twit and the Cossack remained back to back, their swords barely visible due to how fast the two were wielding them. Sanderson brought enough light to the darkness for the Guardians to see what they were doing. Meanwhile, Pitch and Rin thrived in the shadows.

"Kneel!" Rin screamed, running at Pitch head on. Pitch didn't question the boy, kneeling just enough for Rin to jump and use Pitch's right shoulder blade as a launchpad. Glancing behind him, Pitch saw Rin impale a creature that had been headed for him with the staff. Then Rin locked his jaws around the fiend's neck and snapped the bone with his fangs. The creature shattered in the air and Rin disappeared into the dark again. Pitch resumed fighting, cutting a fiend in half with his scythe.

Then there was one. The Guardians, Rin, and Pitch surrounded it. Rin had long since ceased to laugh, but he still wore that proud, intimidating grin. The Guardians had yet to fully acknowledge what their fellow Guardian had become. They were all too focused on the fiend shaking on the ground. Four swords, a scythe, and a staff were pointed at its beak, daring it to move.

"Who is your master?" Pitch spoke first. He was bruised, out of breath, wounded, and still pumping with enough adrenaline from the fight to ignore the immense pain that would soon force him back to his knees.

"The end bringer," the creature answered shakily.

At first, Pitch couldn't believe what he was hearing. That was a title that predated the Great War between himself and the Guardians, and a title that he didn't expect to hear. "He was imprisoned long ago. He can't still command—."

"He is almost free, and when his bonds have broken he will come for you all!" The creature curled into a ball, expecting to be destroyed like its brethren.

"No!" North shouted, jabbing the creatures hood with one of his swords. "You fly to your master. You tell him the Guardians will find him first."

"And that the Nightmare King sends his regards," Pitch added.

When the creature realized they were freeing him, it moved slowly at first. Once the Guardians stepped aside to allow him escape, it suddenly cackled and flew to a section of the pyramid they had not seen and pulled a lever. Then it disappeared as a rumble ran through the temple and the ground quaked beneath them. All five of them struggled to remain on their feet, Sanderson and the twit having an easier time by flying. They soon met their own challenges when stones the size of their heads began falling. Pitch stumbled, landing hard on his side. He groaned, his vision blackening as familiar, chilled hands wrapped around his waist.

"Hold on, Nightmare Man!" Rin cried, pulling the Boogeyman upright so he was leaning on the boy.

To Pitch's surprise, North joined Rin and pulled Pitch's other arm over his large shoulder. "I'll be expecting full explanation of all this later," the Cossack shouted over the crumbling of the edifice around them, as if he'd heard Pitch's thoughts questioning why he was helping his former nemesis.

First, they had to ensure there would in fact be a 'later.'

"Over here, you bloody dafts!" came an Australian accented voice. The five looked and saw their escape where the rabbit had opened up one of his tunnels nearby. They raced for it, and before Pitch could protest about being tossed down a brightly colored hole in the ground, he was falling.

Twisting and tumbling, Rin landed with his Nightmare Man beside him. Then the brightness. The brightness of the colors. The rabbit's home was absolutely uninhabitable. Too many scents to focus, too many senses being assaulted, too much stimuli to do anything but bury his face in Pitch's robes.

His whole body hummed with life, hummed as the shadows inside him slowly drained out of him and he could feel Jack resurfacing. He looked up, dared to stare back at the light, the light that hurt his eyes. He looked at the four Guardians, who stared at him like he was an animal. He wasn't an animal. Jack had said so. Jack had said . . . .

He stopped as he began shivering, the heat of the shadows fleeing him. The claws shortened, the teeth shortened, and he caught a glimpse of a strand of black hair turning white again. His eyes remained hot, though. Hot and sensitive to the light, the awful light that the Guardians were so attached to. Hot like the gray on his forearm. He shivered, closing his eyes, afraid of the stares the Guardians were giving him.

Then he lifted his chin. The Nightmare Man lifted his chin and stared into his face. He wasn't looking at him the way he used to. He wasn't looking at him like he was a nuisance, and he wasn't looking at him like he was an oddity. That's how the Guardians were looking at him. He was looking at him like he was sad. Why was he sad? Why? Did he do something wrong? What now? The fear of being left alone crept up his spine, and that only made him shake more.

"I misjudged you," the Nightmare Man said. "Jack and I owe you. I especially owe you."

Rin released the breath he'd been holding. He wanted to speak, but couldn't. He wanted to move, but felt rooted. He was shocked. He was completely still, completely surprised. For the briefest of moments, he was happy and unafraid.

When Rin closed his eyes, Jack opened his. The humming in his head died and the tingling in his arm stopped, leaving him with an almost content feeling. He remembered little of what had happened after he'd given Rin permission to take control. He'd only started to reemerge when Rin had fallen down Bunny's tunnel. His whole body still trembled like he'd been bound just seconds before. His jaw hurt. He wondered if Rin had crushed rocks with his teeth or something.

Then he focused in on Pitch's face. It seemed surreal at first. Seconds ago he'd been so far from Jack's reach Jack had been sure he'd die before he got to feel Pitch's warmth again. Yet here he was, with Pitch's hand sliding from his chin to the side of his neck. When Jack saw a single tear fall from Pitch's left eye, he seized him around the neck and pulled him into as tight an embrace as he dared give him. Pitch returned the embrace with just as fierce a hold, his arms almost wrapping around his waist twofold.

"I'm supposed to be the accident-prone one, you idiot," Jack grumbled against Pitch's neck, the weight of his fear finally lifting and leaving him full of relief. His eyes frosted over with tears as he realized that Pitch was the one shaking in his arms this time.

"You still are, fool. You were dumb enough to come after me, almost got yourself killed." Pitch's voice fractured slightly at the end.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Don't do it again."

"I can't hear you over the sound of how right I was."

"Shut. Up."

They'd completely forgotten the Guardians were there, watching them. They stayed in each other's arms until they were sure no one was going to appear and try to separate them again. Pitch ignored the pain of the battle. He ignored the fear in the Guardians over what had become of Jack. He ignored everything. Save for Jack Frost. There was only Jack Frost.

He hadn't realized a tear had escaped his eye until he'd dried it in Jack's white hair. The only thing that remained of Rin on Jack was the black in his hoody. Pitch doubted it could be removed, and frankly he wasn't so desperate to remove it. When Rin wasn't possessing Jack, it marked the youngest Guardian as the property of Pitch Black.

Pitch held the boy like he was his only lifeline, pulling him against him with what little strength remained within him. For the briefest of moments, he'd been reminded of what it was like before Jack had come into his life. He could say with complete assurance that he didn't ever want to return to that life. I love you, he thought. He wasn't brave enough to say it out loud yet. He didn't know if he would ever be, but he knew it was true. He meant it with every fiber of his being.

And he would stop at nothing to end the so-called end bringer who'd threatened them both.

The End Bringer

"Stop moving."

"It's entirely too bright in here. Can't we go somewhere el—."

"No, now stay still."

"I don't like this. Not with them watching—."

"You wear a V-neck robe and no shirt. There's not much left to the imagination."

"They're staring—."

"Guys! Walk away," Jack finally ordered the Guardians. North and Sandy nodded and walked away without question. Tooth lingered momentarily, concerned that Jack wasn't quite as adept at bandaging wounds, but eventually left. Bunny remained, glaring down at the two of them with folded arms. He was the only one who hadn't quite accepted their explanation for why Jack was part Fearling, but Jack had expected that. At this point, he expected never to hear Bunny say a semi-decent word to him again let alone a kind one.

Pitch and Bunny glared defiantly at one another for longer than was necessary. The tension was thick enough that Jack could freeze a chunk of it easily. Tooth turned back, realizing Bunny had remained. "You don't have to watch them. They're not going to do anything," she whispered to him.

"Yeah. Right," he grumbled, following her reluctantly. He maintained eye contact for a little while longer before returning to his work. Bunny's former remarks still stung, but at least he'd saved them. Had he not shown up at the last minute, Manny only knew where they'd be.

Jack brushed aside his thoughts, and instead focused on removing one of Pitch's sleeves and inspecting his wounds. Pitch still refused to completely remove his robe, so Jack figured that switching sides would be a decent compromise. Because of Pitch's skin tone, bruises were almost impossible to locate. Save for the really dark ones, that is. That didn't mean they weren't there, though. They were mostly in the abdominal region and over the ribs. A set of scratches stretched over his pectoral. That was just on the right side of his body, though.

Jack went to prepare the gauze Tooth had given him when Pitch asked, "Can't you just use your ice and let it alone?"

"It will heal a lot faster if you let me take care of it. Properly." Pitch sighed dramatically at that, rolling his eyes. "Don't complain. It's not as humiliating as you think it is."

Jack could see that Pitch wanted to make some form of remark along the lines of 'how would you know,' but thought better of it. Because Jack would know. He knew very well the humiliation that came with allowing others to care for him when he was too weak to do it himself. He was grateful that Pitch wasn't in the state Jack had been in after his attack. From what he could tell, Pitch had handled that situation miraculously. Jack doubted he could've done the same for Pitch. He would've been nothing but a simpering mess.

Jack had to admit that he was no good at dressing wounds. He felt Pitch's hand on his cheek as he fought with the bandaging on the Boogeyman's chest. He smiled, pressing his face further into the palm as he smoothed out his pitiful handiwork. Then he used his ice to soothe the bruises. Pitch let out a relieved sigh once Jack was done with that side, pulling on his sleeve before reluctantly removing the other.

There was only one significant wound on Pitch's left side, but it was glaring. Jack had to refrain from gasping at the deep gashes, which were still seeping blood. He wondered how Pitch could move at all with that wound, how he'd managed to hide it so well.

Even though he'd managed to control his breathing, he hadn't been able to control his facial expression. The only reason he knew this was because Pitch was staring at him. He thought he'd learned all of the faces of Pitch Black rather well, but that facial expression he'd never seen before. It wasn't the usual saddened look he'd seen on rare occasion when he thought Jack wasn't looking. It was definitely a look of upset, though.

With shaky hands, Jack tried to bandage that wound as well. It took longer, and it took more resolve. The only way he found himself able to accomplish what he'd set out to do was to promise himself that he would get revenge on the creatures who'd done this to Pitch. He hadn't thought of himself as a vengeful person before. In actuality, he really wasn't. But Rin was.

And Rin was capable of causing pain where Jack wasn't.

"Do I even want to know what Rin did to free us?" Jack asked as he finished up the bandaging.

"Most likely not. Just know that he was very efficient in his actions."

Jack nodded, figuring as much. "He told me you could still control him even while he's in my body. Is that true?"

Pitch's face went blank as he thought about his answer. Apparently, he decided on honesty. "It is true."

"Any particular reason why you never took advantage of that?"

Pitch narrowed his eyes. "That is an invasion of privacy. I would never—," Pitch was cut off by Jack's snickering. Jack went to cover his mouth, but that didn't stop it. He only laughed louder when Pitch asked indignantly, "What is so entertaining about that notion?"

"It's just," Jack fought for breath, "your idea," another outburst, "of privacy is slightly warped."

"I beg your pardon!" Jack tried suppressing his laughter, but Pitch looked so offended that the winter spirit found it hilarious.

"Pitch, our relationship consists of stalking, kidnapping, and hiding each other's belongings, and you think that's an invasion of privacy?"

"It is! You wouldn't like it if I did it!" Jack stopped laughing, but a smile remained on his lips as he stared at the Nightmare King's blistered face. Pitch's expression changed to one of quiet stubbornness when he realized what Jack was thinking. "No."

"Challenge has been accepted," Jack stated.

Pitch slipped his robe back on. "You think you dislike being restrained? This won't help."

"I think I handled being restrained pretty well the last time."

"Jack, once you realize that you're not completely in control of your body, paranoia—."

"I'm already paranoid because of Rin. I think I can handle you." Then something occurred to Jack. "Speaking of, how come you never used it on Rin?"

"Again, it's an invasion of your privacy. Now drop the subject."

"Not until you show me." The two fell into a staring contest, which also happened to be a contest of wills. Unfortunately, both were very strong-willed and Jack knew it.

But Jack apparently had better endurance, for soon Pitch gave in. "Fine." The first thing Jack felt was a pull. It came from within him, a gentle pressure that was both intense and calm. Jack hadn't known that sort of combination was even possible. The gentleness of the pull was almost . . . relaxing. At the same time, the intensity seemed like a looming threat. It was like his veins would start constricting themselves if he even considered disobedience. Fortunately, he didn't think to. He was hardly aware of his actions, moving as if in a trance and yet completely awake. He was present, but something other than his own brain was orchestrating his actions. The sensation was odd, to say the least, but not nearly as unpleasant as Pitch made it sound. He supposed that was because he was going along with it willingly. He found himself pulled down onto his back, hands above his head and knees apart. Only then did the force within him lessen. He felt it still, lingering, but it wasn't quite as deep. He tested his ability to move with an arm. Sure enough, the pressure inside of him increased. It was less like being restrained and more like his arm was suddenly leaden and deadweight. To his surprise, he did not panic. He did not start shaking. He was simply . . . there. There and unable to move out of this incredibly vulnerable position. The only movements allowed him were blinking and shifting his gaze. He dared glance at Pitch, whose facial expression displayed both concentration and amusement at what he had made Jack do.

"A relationship built on kidnapping, stalking, and hiding belongings. I recall you enjoying those things in your own way." Pitch ran a hand up the inside Jack's thigh. "But this, by far, is one of the more pleasant aspects of this relationship. Don't you think so?"

Is it just me, or is this turning me on? Jack thought to himself. He immediately decided the answer was yes. His body apparently agreed with him as Pitch's hand skipped over his groin (sadly) and instead slid under the hem of his hoody and teased his sensitive stomach. Jack's cheeks flushed red once he remembered where they were and what had just happened to them. He wanted to speak, but just as with his arm his lips became too heavy to move. He should've found it frustrating, but he didn't.

Suddenly, the force was gone and his body fell back under his control. He let out a shaky breath, flexing his fingers before sitting up again. He glanced down at the outline of his arousal, then turned to Pitch. "I hate you."

"I told you that you wouldn't—."

Before Pitch could finish his sentence, Jack grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him so that the Guardian was whispering in his ear, "Oh no. When we're alone, you take advantage of that ability."

Pitch's devious chuckle reverberated through both of them.

When Pitch felt ready to face the Guardians again, they gathered together to discuss the emergence of this new enemy.

"Do we actually know what these things are?" Jack asked.

"Who is end bringer?" North added.

"And how do we take care of them?" the twit remarked.

Pitch reluctantly exchanged a glance with the rabbit, the only individual in the room Pitch knew to be older than him. Sanderson might have been, but he'd spent hundreds of years sleeping on an island. He likely wouldn't know much about the end bringer. The exchange was short-lived, and a hint of hostility still resonated. Bunny spoke first, "The end bringer has many names and appears in many cultures, but he is best known as Pillan. He's also been called Typhon and Nidhogg."

"Hang on," Jack said, holding up a hand. "You're saying . . . dragon. The end bringer is a dragon."

"Not just any dragon, mate. The dragon." The rabbit's remark held a snide note to it, and that succeeded in making Pitch want to strangle him for directing it at Jack. "I'm assuming his followers are—."

"The plague spirits. Also referred to as Huecuvus and the Nosoi," Pitch interrupted. This was his area of expertise. "They are a prelude to the havoc Pillan will wreak. They're fear elementals, and can take many forms. Disease. Decay. Horrid weather. Any natural phenomenon one might fear."

"So the weather anomalies mentioned in the meeting could be related?" the twit interjected.

"Not just could be. They most likely are. If the end bringer is awake, he's breaking his bonds," Pitch said.

"What do you mean, bonds?" North asked, one hand on his hip and the other on his bearded chin.

"He was imprisoned in the earth long before the Great War. Long before this guy," the rabbit gestured rudely at Pitch, "woke up."

"Who imprisoned him?" the twit asked.

The rabbit shrugged. "Don't know."

Pitch knew. He wasn't going to say so, but he knew. He knew who the warden of Pillan's prison was, their relationship to Pillan, and where he could find them. He also knew that the individual in question didn't want to be found.

"I think we shall consult Man in Moon," North said.

"I'll go with you. I need to stop by the palace and make sure everything is running smoothly anyway." The twit rested a hand on one of her swords. "It may be a while before we can get back to work."

"I'll get ahead in my schedule, in the event we're gone for long," the rabbit added.

"Need help?" Jack asked.

"Not from you."

That comment brought Pitch's irritation to a head. "Don't take that tone with him," Pitch snapped, causing the rabbit to turn and glare at him.

"Why are you still here anyway, Boogeyman?" the rabbit retorted, stepping closer.

Pitch took a step forward, accepting the challenge. "Like it or not, this is my business too. You're not the ones who got attacked in their own home—."

"And they had to rescue you. Why would we want you along—?"

"Because I'm an expert on fear, and the lot of you will be facing an army of—."

"Admit it! You're only here because you're afraid for Jack—."

By now, they were toe to toe. "Leave him out of this, rabbit!"

"I've got news for you, Pitch—."

"I don't care for your news—."

"The most dangerous thing Jack has to deal with in our company—."

"Hey," Jack attempted to interrupt.

"Is you," the rabbit finished.

"Stop it!" Jack shouted, shoving the two apart. Though they were technically separated now, Pitch continued to glare at the rabbit. However, the rabbit's attention was now directed at Jack.

"And you're too dumb to realize it," he growled at the youngest Guardian.

"Enough!" Pitch growled. He was two seconds away from launching himself at the rabbit, despite his wounds and despite Jack's wishes. Before he could, he felt something hit him upside the head and he fell into a deep sleep.

Sandy glared at the lot of them, threatening to throw another ball of dreamsand if anyone so much as dared open their mouths. North, Jack, and Tooth stared at the dosing Bunny and Pitch, then back at Sandy. Sandy disintegrated the ball, knowing they weren't going to challenge him, and wiped his hands. He created a few symbols above his head, asking if he was the only adult in the room.

"Unfortunately, I think you are," Jack answered. The boy rubbed his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose. Sandy felt for him. He knew the boy felt like he just couldn't get anything right.

Sandy turned to North and Tooth, signaling to them that they should get on with their trip to check the Tooth Palace and speak with Manny. He reassured them that he would stay and mediate the others.

"Thanks, Sandy," North and Tooth said in unison before leaving the Warren.

Sandy turned back to Jack, moving to stand by the boy. Jack looked sullenly at him when he realized Sandy's presence. He tried patting Jack's hand reassuringly, but that didn't seem to help. Jack just sighed, closing his eyes.

"I guess we should put them on opposite ends of the Warren. That way, when they wake up, it'll take longer for them to find one another." Sandy nodded, pointing to Bunny and signing that he would handle him. "I got Pitch. It'll be hard finding a dark corner to stuff him in, that's for sure."

The Powers that Be

Jack was sitting by Pitch's sleeping form when Sandy appeared within his sights. The little man was leading two familiar children over to him. Leaving Pitch to slumber, he smiled and walked over to them.

"Jack!" Jamie shouted happily.

"Jack Jack!" Sophie also squealed.

Jack found himself being tackled to the ground by the two. He laughed as he sat up and hugged them, surprised at how big they'd gotten. He felt like Sophie was almost a head taller, but that was likely an exaggeration. Her clothing style had changed little: she still looked like she'd just thrown together an outfit by herself without any regards to what colors matched. And her hair was still wild and unkempt, which made her big green eyes seem all the brighter against her blonde hair. Jamie, on the other hand, had definitely grown taller.

"You guys are growing too fast!" Jack exclaimed. The thought was both sad and happy, and he tried not to think about how old they were now. Once they released him, all smiles and giggles, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Jamie's expression turned to one of concern as Sophie ran off in search of Bunny. "Mom's really sick, so she sent us to stay with some friends. The doctors don't know what it is, and a bunch of people in Burgess are catching it."

Jack's brow furrowed. Sickness. He wondered if this was a result of the plague spirits emerging. He didn't doubt it. He wasn't sure if he should tell Jamie about the end bringer. The kid had done a lot for the Guardians in the past, and knowledge of a world-wide catastrophe wouldn't exactly be something an eleven or twelve-year-old should have on his mind. Jack realized hiding it was pointless, but he could at least try to soften the blow. So instead of bringing it up to Jamie, he asked, "Do your friends know you're here?"

"Not really, no. I think North must've left a snow globe with Sophie again, because this was really her idea."

"He would."

Jamie and Jack chuckled a bit. Then Jamie gave Jack a curious look. "What happened to your hoody?"

Jack glanced down, wondering what Jamie was referring to. Then his eyes widened. Oh, he thought. He'd completely forgotten that Rin had infused the blue fabric with shadow, so the sweatshirt was mottled by the two colors now. How did he even begin to explain this to Jamie? He panicked a little. He'd tried to conceal the fact that he was with Pitch from his believers mainly because he didn't want them to think he'd betrayed them. The Guardians knew he wasn't a traitor (save for Bunny, at least), but that didn't mean his believers would understand.

It was then that Sandy intervened and came to his rescue. He signed to Jack that he should tell Jamie about Pitch's temporary allegiance with the Guardians to battle Pillan and the plague spirits, and some of the truth about their friendship. Jack worried about being that honest, but he trusted Sandy. Nodding, he turned back to Jamie. "Well, see, we might be preoccupied the next couple of weeks. Or days. I'm not sure. There's a dragon—."

"Dragons are cool! Have you seen that movie—?"

"Calm down, kiddo," Jack said, Jamie's enthusiasm making him loosen up a bit. "This dragon's not so cool. I think he aims to start a war with us." And now for the bombshell. "And Pitch is helping us."

"Pitch is back?!" That shocked expression is exactly what Jack had expected.

"Not . . . necessarily—."

"Come on, mate. Just tell him you're dating the Boogeyman and get it over with!" Jack spun around to find Bunny leading Sophie around with a basket full of eggs. His face flushed and his breath caught in his throat as he stared horrified at the rabbit. Even Sandy looked shocked at what Bunny had said.

"What?" Jamie asked. Jack closed his eyes, a weight manifesting in his chest as he realized that Bunny may have chased away the first child to ever notice him. He was expecting to hear disappointment in his first believer's tone at any moment. He covered his face with his hands. This was such a low blow, even for Bunny. Jack almost couldn't believe the rabbit would do this to him. "Jack, what is he saying?" Jack couldn't answer. He was too hurt.

"Look here, kid," Bunny moved closer as dread poured through Jack's body. "I think he's an idiot. You can call him an idiot too, if you like. But it's true. He and Pitch have gotten to be close friends and the Guardians condone it."

"What?" Jack asked without thinking, looking up at Bunny in disbelief.

Bunny's ears flattened guiltily against his head. "Kid, as long as Jack is here, Pitch isn't going to hurt anyone. He knows that would upset Jack. He's mainly fighting with us because of Jack. You don't have to be afraid of him."

"But . . .," Jamie thought aloud. Jack still couldn't look at him. He was still too busy wondering why Bunny was suddenly helping him. "Doesn't he creep you out?"

The ridiculousness of the question made Jack laugh. Sandy smiled widely, looking between the two other Guardians. Bunny even cracked a smile. Of all the things Jamie could've asked about Pitch, he wanted to know if Jack was unnerved by him. Jack summoned the courage to turn around then, and found himself confronted by a confused believer. "Yeah, sometimes. But you get used to it." Jack looked up, thinking. "Most of it."

"But what about all the things Pitch did to you?" Jamie asked. Now that was a reasonable question that Jack wasn't sure how to answer.

Bunny stepped closer so that he was standing beside Jack and Sandy while Sophie played with the basket of eggs he'd had. "Sometimes people do stupid things out of loneliness. We all get lonely. Even the Boogeyman." Surely I must be dead, Jack thought. Bunny actually listened to me. But Jamie accepted the explanation. The faith the kid had in them astounded Jack.

After a moment Jamie ran after his sister, who was hoarding the basket of eggs. Sandy, Jack, and Bunny watched them for a moment. Then Jack turned to Bunny. "A while ago, you hated me."

"You're an idiot, but you can't be that big an idiot. I never hated you," Bunny grumbled, sounding like himself again. For a moment, Jack thought that Sandy's dreamsand had destroyed the Bunny they knew.

"This is the first time you defended me, though. On this subject at least."

"You're a hardhead. No matter what, you're going to do what you want." Bunny glanced around, as if expecting Pitch to appear out of thin air. "I should've known that the Fearling thing wasn't intentional, judging by the way the bloody bastard hovered over you after the monkey incident. But you can't blame me for being mad."

"Dude, I don't even know what you mean by Fearling. I just know that that's what Rin is, apparently."

Bunny sighed, shaking his head as his brow furrowed. "One, I can't believe you guys named it. Two, I forget how young you are. You never would've remembered the Great War."

"Rin named himself. And what exactly was the Great War?"

Sandy tugged on Jack's sleeve, then signed to him. His sand depicted a battle between the Guardians and Pitch, who led an army of what looked like lethargic men and . . . spirits was the only term Jack could come up with. He assumed they were Fearlings. In the end, the Guardians defeated Pitch and his army was vanquished. Pitch went into hiding. "This was hundreds of years before your time," Bunny added. "The Guardians were newly chosen, and we were hardened by battle. In Pitch's absence, we softened up quite a bit and lowered our defenses. I think that's why Manny saw potential in you."

Jack's curiosity spiked. "Do you all know why he chose you?"

"Honestly, nobody ever knows Manny's real reasons. All we can do is guess."

Jack stared at Sandy's images, counting not four, but eight heads. Alongside the Big Four, there was an old man with a staff and a book, a boy who looked to be Jack's 'age' with a glowing spear, a similarly aged girl riding a giant goose, and a finely dressed woman. These four he did not recognize. "What happened to them?"

"Three of them are somewhere where we can't find them, helping Manny defend the world in their own way." Bunny walked away. "The fourth we don't talk about."

Pitch awoke to the sound of a screaming child. He smiled. That was a pleasant thought. Screaming children. Until he realized it was a happy scream. Then the thought wasn't so pleasant at all and he started to get a headache. Dammit Sanderson, he found himself thinking. He knew that Guardian's technique anywhere.

Sitting up, he found himself in one of the egg tunnels, one of very few dark places in the Warren. He assumed Jack had brought him there after he'd been knocked out. He smiled at the thought, then wondered where the boy had gone off to. Standing slowly, he dared to step out of the darkness.

He found himself being confronted by a little girl. After a moment, he recognized her. She was the little sister of the infernal believer who'd refused to stop believing in the Guardians. He glared at her as she chased a group of eggs, not expecting her to turn around and look at him. At first, he thought her gaze was fixed on something behind him. Pitch really couldn't tell. Her hair was practically a mop that covered the majority of her face. When he realized that there was a remote possibility that she was looking at him, he sidestepped. Her head followed him. He sidestepped again. Sure enough, she continued looking at him with her mouth agape.

Pitch's brow rose. "Jack?" he called out. Pitch felt a tremor of excitement at having a believer, but at the same time knew that the only way he could be seen would be if the individual feared him. This was also one of Jack's believers. Jack wouldn't appreciate Pitch scaring one of his believers. The girl still stared at Pitch. "Jack, it's staring at me."

Without warning, the child threw her arms up in the air and shouted. He thought she was about to run away, but she ran towards him. Was she . . . attacking him? Before he found out, he stepped into the tunnel and disappeared into the shadows. She followed, still shouting and searching the darkness for him. "Come out!" she shouted.

Pitch wasn't exactly intimidated, but this was a first for him. He'd never had a child who feared him react to his presence quite like this. "Jack, please come get this child!"

Finally, the Guardian appeared, having ridden the wind to the scene. "Sophie?" he called into the tunnel, kneeling so that he was on the girl's level.

"I chased away the Boogeyman!" she cried triumphantly, running out of the darkness and into Jack's open arms.

He hugged her, picking her up off the ground and looking into the tunnel. "Did you, now?" Jack stared quizzically into the darkness. "Pitch, did she chase you away?"

Was that supposed to be a trick question? He tentatively answered, "Yes."

Jack smiled at the girl then. "You did! Good job! You might wanna go help Bunny. He's got a lot of eggs to paint."

"Bunny!" she said happily as Jack lowered her to the ground and she ran off.

When he was sure she was gone, Pitch stepped out of the shadows. "That was not an everyday experience."

"I'd say congratulations, you have a believer, but you look a little stricken. Are you scared of a four-year-old?"

Pitch glared at Jack, but the boy only smiled up at him. Jack's mischievous grin only made his brow knit further. "There it is again."

"There what is?" Jack asked through a small chuckle.

"That damnable facial expression that you refer to as 'just a smile.'" This only succeeded in making Jack laugh more. "I thought I banished that look."

"From your lair. Not the Warren."

"A minor technicality," he called. "Something's wrong with that girl."

"Knowing Jamie, he probably taught her to attack the things she feared to teach her not to be afraid."

"That sort of thinking could get the girl injured. Fear is a necessary and natural part of survival."

"Awww," Jack crooned, giving Pitch an even more playful look.

And Pitch thought he loathed the last face. "Now what?"

"You're acting all parental! It's adorable."

"Shut up, you," Pitch grumbled half-heartedly, wrapping a possessive arm around Jack's shoulders. Jack only chuckled more as Pitch pulled him into the darkness again. "Try not to leave my sight."

"In case you need me to save you again? We may have switched places. You're the one attracting all the trouble."

"Don't get cute. I need more rest, and you make a wonderful pillow."

"I feel so used," he joked. Pitch rolled his eyes.

"I thought I told you to shut up."

"It feels good, no?"

"What?"

"Having your weapons back."

Tooth glanced down at her swords, then smiled up at North. "Very good."

North smiled, laughing as they stared past the globe at the bright yet silent moon. The Tooth Palace was functioning normally even without Tooth's constant direction. She wondered how the others were doing, how Jack was fairing with Bunny and Pitch bickering over him. She hoped that Manny spoke to them soon. "Is a strange feeling."

"Being at war again?" she asked.

"Mm," he nodded in agreement. "It seemed easier when we knew our enemy's face. We have name, we have species, but hardly a face."

"Or even a voice," Tooth agreed. "Does Manny expect us to fight Pillan alone?"

"Technically, we are not alone. We are Guardians," North said. Then he added with a shrug, "Plus one."

"Plus one," she echoed. She thought of the shadows and the Nightmares Pitch commanded. "More like plus one times hundreds."

"Tis true."

North stood up then, facing her. His lips quirked in a way she hadn't seen them do in years. Tooth tilted her head to the side as she hovered before him. "What are you thinking about?"

"That I won't get to do this again for a while." He pulled her to him and planted a soft kiss on her lips. She hummed against his mouth, her wings stilling as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her up. His lips were sweet, his arms were strong, and she honestly missed having them around her when they were working too much to see each other. Their relationship was not a public one. It was as much their secret as they could keep it from the others. They liked it that way. When North pulled away, he whispered, "You're still as beautiful as you were the night I met you."

"You're still one of the first and only people I would trust with my life," she whispered back.

Their foreheads touched and their eyes closed momentarily before they reluctantly pulled apart. As they did so, they turned back to the moon to find the light shining on the floor. Manny was here. North smiled wider, "Alright, Man in Moon. What is situation?"

An image appeared on the floor of a creature they had never seen in person. The shadow of a dragon was shown clawing its way out of the earth, breathing fire as its muzzle broke free of the ground. Before the dragon were the Guardians. Manny even included Pitch in the light show. North and Tooth stared in awed horror at the size of Pillan compared to them. He was huge. He was bigger than any of them might have feared. The beast's body alone was larger than Jamie Bennett's house.

"Who originally imprisoned him, Manny? Can they help us?" Tooth asked.

The shadows dissipated and reformed into a familiar shape of a finely dressed woman. A woman they recognized. "No one knows where she is," North muttered. "But she caged him once. She can do it again. How do we find her?"

The answer should've been obvious to them. Tooth knew who to go to before Manny even showed an image of the Nightmare King.

Promises and Secrets

Jack woke with a start, trembling slightly from the dream he'd had: another memory from that attack. The pressure on his waist didn't help. It felt like he was being held down again, and he'd forgotten that he'd fallen asleep somewhere not in the Nightmare King's lair. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he remembered where he was, he realized it was only Pitch. He was actually sleeping, his head on Jack's chest with his long arms wrapped around the Guardian's waist. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as the trembling subsided, then found himself staring at Pitch's sleeping form. He couldn't recall if he'd actually seen Pitch sleep before. Usually it was Pitch watching Jack sleep. This was the most relaxed Jack had seen Pitch since leaving him alone in his lair. Jack felt his chest tighten at the thought.

He ran a tentative hand through Pitch's hair. He almost laughed when his Boogeyman hummed his approval while still asleep and tightened his arms around Jack. His smile widened when he thought he heard Pitch mouth, "Mine."

He was surprised at how easy it was to simply sit still and watch his partner sleep. He would've thought he'd be bored, by now. Instead, he kept finding new things to study. Pitch's hair wasn't completely black, for one. There were grayish hairs intermingling as well. Pitch breathed steadily through his nose rather than his mouth. As he slept, the lines in his forehead became less obvious. He actually looked younger. His body heat also increased while asleep, so Jack's legs and waist were sweating from the contact. He didn't mind though. Pitch's warmth was one of the many things he enjoyed. Being cold all the time had its benefits, and one of them happened to be an appreciation for warmer temperatures. So long as he wasn't boiling, at least.

His thoughts were interrupted by a humming in the back of his head and a tingling on his forearm. "You should make out with him right now," Rin whispered.

Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Ruin a moment, why don't you?"

"Hey, I'm just giving you some options."

"I don't want your options."

"Suit yourself."

"Who are you mouthing off at?" Pitch muttered, eyes still closed and voice soft.

"Rin. He's misbehaving," Jack offered.

"Am not! Tell him what I said! He'd like it coming from you."

"No!" Jack uttered through gritted teeth. Then he redirected his focus on Pitch. "So you're a light sleeper?"

"Considering how little I sleep, that shouldn't be so surprising."

"I would actually expect you to go in hibernation with how little you sleep."

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't have time to hibernate."

Jack chuckled. "Point taken." His smile widened as Pitch buried his face deeper into Jack's chest, holding him tighter still. "You're clingy when you're tired."

"Are you complaining?"

"No. I actually like it." He could've sworn Pitch smiled at that. They were interrupted by a static noise, like someone was adjusting a radio, making Pitch grumble. "I'll go check it out," the Guardian said. Pitch grumbled some more before reluctantly releasing Jack from his iron grip. Jack picked up his staff and left Pitch to continue resting in the dark.

Walking through Bunny's Warren, Jack headed for the source of the noise. As he approached Jamie and Sophie, he discovered that it was in fact a pocket radio. When had that gotten there?

"Can't find a channel," Jamie complained.

"You're underground. Can't exactly get any frequencies down here," Jack offered. "Weren't you supposed to be helping Bunny?"

"Sophie and I may or may not have ruined a batch of his eggs," the kid offered. Jack wanted to laugh, but knew the kangaroo might come flying out of nowhere and shout him into the ground. "So he sent us over here instead. Told us we could stay until the other Guardians got here."

"Well, give it here. Let me throw it a few times." Jack picked up the radio. With the staff in hand, he called upon a breeze to lift him to the highest part of the Warren. He hoped the higher he got, the better signal he would get. His suspicions proved right. The static began to dissipate and he could actually hear music. "Radio's working!"

"Awesome!" Jamie called up to him. Sandy appeared by the kids and offered them a ride up to the ledge where Jack was adjusting the station. When they got there, Jamie reached for it. "Hey hey! I fixed it, therefore I choose what station."

"That's not fair!" Sophie argued.

"How is that not fair? That's perfectly fair," Jack laughed as he argued. Sophie's fake pout only made him chuckle more.

He surfed the stations for a bit, Jamie and Sophie giving him input every now and again on what songs they liked that they heard. It wasn't until he found a classic rock station that he stopped. "What is this?" Jamie asked.

"Only gold! This stuff is the best," Jack said. Without thinking, he actually got up and started dancing.

"How are you dancing to this?" Jamie asked. A question mark appeared over Sandy's head also.

"How are you not? Don't make me snowball you kids." He continued moving to the music, singing alongside Bob Seger. He surprised himself with how well he knew the lyrics.

Jamie laughed as Sophie squealed and joined Jack. The Guardian was proud to say that the girl had more rhythm than he did. Jamie was equally talented, the kids making Jack look like an offbeat bird of paradise trying to get attention. He was fine with that. As long as they were having fun. Out of the corner of his eye, he even caught Sandy nodding his head in time with the music.

From what the other Guardians made it seem like, he was about to go to war. It suddenly struck Jack that this might be the last time he did his job as the Guardian of Fun.

Pitch snuck out of the shadows to watch the group. His side felt almost normal again, the short rest having aided him more than he had expected. Having Jack as a pillow may have also helped. He'd practically slept on top of an ice cube. Moving around in the shadows, he managed to locate Jack again. To his surprise, he found the winter spirit dancing with the believer and the girl who'd assaulted Pitch earlier. Even Sanderson was somewhat moving to the rather odd beat. Pitch couldn't recall having caught up to that century of music, and so didn't recognize the tune.

He stopped thinking about the odd combination of string and percussion when his gaze honed in on Jack, though. This was definitely something he'd never seen the young Guardian do. He'd seen (and made) Jack move in the most beautiful ways, but seeing him dance was an experience he had not thought to witness. Granted, his rhythm was off by several beats, but Pitch liked seeing the boy move. He wouldn't go so far as to say that Jack Frost had grace, because he certainly didn't. However, he could say with absolute certainty that he liked seeing this side of the Guardian of Fun.

Unfortunately for the believer and his sister, Pitch wasn't much for sharing. But he would let Jack have this moment with them anyway. Losing control of his tongue, he said, "I should get you to dance more often."

Jack turned around and saw Pitch lingering in the shadows, leaning against a mossy surface with his arms folded. Pitch smiled at the boy blushing and grinning sheepishly at him. He continued smiling until the little girl caught sight of him. Again, she stared at him for a few moments before roaring and charging again. This time, Pitch didn't back down. "Sophie, wait!" Jack and Jamie said in unison. Before the child could run into Pitch, which he'd prepared himself for, Jack had scooped her up off the ground.

"Is it Pitch?" Jamie whispered to Jack. Convenient. The boy still couldn't see him. That didn't seem to affect his sister's want to charge at the Boogeyman.

"Yeah, but he's just standing there," Jack reassured. Somehow, Pitch found it adorable that Jack still had to reassure the believer that had ruined his carefully laid plans. Of course, Jack had been ruining his carefully laid plans for quite some time now, and he felt no desire to stop him. "Does she do this with everything she's scared of?"

"Yeah, but we're operating under the impression that most of the things she's scared of are just as scared of her," the believer uttered. The boy's sentence structure was interesting. Pitch wouldn't be surprised if he got top marks in English classes.

"You might wanna break her of chasing after the Boogeyman. I can assure you he won't do anything to her, but she should be careful all the same."

"Ah, the Nightmare King has a believer!" a familiar voice resounded from below. Glancing down, they saw North and Tooth approaching.

Pitch could almost feel the dread coming off of Jack, who turned to the two children and said, "Time to go, guys."

"Will Mom get better if you beat the dragon?" the believer asked. His fear was understandable, and Pitch couldn't help but take pleasure in the feel of it. He would likely feel guilty later considering this was one of Jack's believers, but for now he savored the taste.

"I hope so, kid," Jack answered, worry finally showing on his face and in his tone.

The Cossack opened a portal to the human world using one of his snow globes. When the children were gone, Pitch and the Guardians gathered to discuss what the Man in the Moon might have said.

"We are needing help with this one," North stated.

"He hasn't chosen another Guardian, has he? I'm barely used to the new one," the rabbit grumbled. Jack merely rolled his eyes this time.

"No, but we have met her before," the twit interjected. Her, Pitch thought. A small amount of dread accumulated within him.

"We need to find Mother Nature," the Cossack spoke, giving voice to the words Pitch had so desperately hoped not to hear. "She entombed Pillan and can likely do it again."

"What's stopping us from finding her?" Jack asked. Pitch gave him a petulant look, but the boy was oblivious. Just stop asking questions, Pitch thought. He couldn't even begin to describe how terribly he did not want to be part of this anymore.

"Man in Moon says Pitch knows where she is," the Cossack said. Of course the Man in the Moon said that. It seemed he lived to undermine Pitch's hopes of keeping his promises.

"You do?" Jack asked, confused. Pitch looked down, remaining quiet.

"Pitch, we need your help in this," the twit added softly. She was the last person he wanted to speak to.

"No," Pitch said through gritted teeth. Only when he felt an inkling of fear surge through the fairy did he look up at all. "I won't lead you to her."

"She may be our only hope in this, you daft," the rabbit retorted, but with less vigor than before.

"Bunny, no," Jack grumbled before turning to Pitch. "Pitch, what's wrong? Why can't you show us where she is?" Pitch couldn't look at Jack. He couldn't explain to the winter spirit what was going through his head. Not in front of the others. Not like this. He clenched his fists, looking down again as he took a step back.

"It's not that he can't. He just won't," the rabbit snapped.

"She will not receive us willingly. She's been in hiding all these years. If she'd wanted us to know her whereabouts, then she—," Pitch attempted an explanation.

The twit interrupted gently, "But you know exactly where she is. Doesn't that mean she wanted you to—."

"No! I am the last person she wants to—."

"But you know where she is—."

"And I won't tell you how to find—."

"Pitch, the world may depend on this information—."

"I will hunt down Pillan myself before I lead any of you to her!" Pitch shouted. They finally silenced then.

The pause was short-lived, however. "Why do I feel like everybody knows something I don't again?" Jack asked, breaking the quiet.

Pitch's rage quelled as the Guardians stared at the youngest member of their troupe. A moment of panic went through him as he realized what they might divulge. But they didn't. The twit simply said, "That's between you and Pitch."

Jack looked at him, almost like he was expecting Pitch to grow two heads at the moment. Oddly, Pitch felt that he just might. For once, he couldn't bring himself to speak to Jack. He had to look away from the boy. Was this shame? Embarrassment? Guilt? He wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it only made Jack's piercing blue gaze a source of discomfort for him. "Pitch, what is going on?" Pitch wasn't ready to explain this to Jack.

"Past dealings or no, we need Mother Nature on our side," the rabbit said. "She's more powerful and definitely older than the majority of us. If Pillan's plague spirits can cause this much turmoil, we are going to need her help dealing with Pillan himself."

"This is the only way. Manny said—."

"Let me be clear. I don't care what the Man in the Moon said. All I care about is putting down the menace who almost killed us," Pitch growled, gesturing to himself and Jack. He did look at Jack then. Jack still looked confused, and Pitch could feel just the slightest sense of suspicion rising in the boy. The bitterness of the boy's fear slipped into the sensation as well. Pitch closed his eyes, knowing full well that he was going to regret this. "For that reason alone will I take you to her."

The relief in the elder Guardians' gazes was muted by the impending doom Pitch felt. When the Cossack started leading them to the tunnels, Pitch and Jack hesitated. Jack asked quietly, "What aren't you telling me?"

Pitch sighed heavily, an abnormal amount of anxiety encasing him as he kept his eyes down. "I'm not ready to talk about it," he whispered almost inaudibly. He was almost afraid Jack hadn't heard him.

Afraid. Jack somehow made him very afraid. It may be the one thing other than Guardianship that Pitch held against the boy.

"I . . . ," the boy sighed. Pitch closed his eyes against the Guardian's confusion. "I want to know, but if you can't tell me now . . . I'll wait."

Pitch felt Jack's hand slip into his, and the sensation forced Pitch to relax. Though he took comfort in Jack's patience, he knew the boy wouldn't have to wait very long. Soon, he would have his answers, whether Pitch was ready to speak or not.

Mother Nature is a Bitch

"I would take a step back from that if I were you, mate," Bunny told North. The giant of a man was hunched over looking at a brightly colored frog crawling on one of the many varieties of rainforest vegetation.

"But it interests me!" North exclaimed. Bunny cringed at how close the Guardian of Wonder was to the red and blue creature.

"North, it's poisonous. One touch could—," Tooth started, but was interrupted by a voice from ahead.

"I swear to all that's holy, if you don't stay in my line of view, I am going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you through here," Pitch threatened. The Guardians heard Rin snort in response. The little Fearling bastard making an appearance had made them all a little uncomfortable. While Bunny still felt it Pitch's fault the thing even existed, he could now see just how terribly the Nightmare King wanted Rin gone.

Pitch had led them to the Amazon rainforest, teaming with wildlife that North couldn't stop gawking at and Bunny couldn't stop glaring warily at. Pitch hadn't appreciated the sleigh ride in the slightest, breaking North's belief that everyone loved his method of travel. Tooth flew alongside the group calmly, innately familiar with the laws of the jungle. Sandy stayed just behind Pitch and Rin, making Bunny think he was chaperoning them in his own way. That seemed right, seeing as both Jack and Rin had already encountered just as many deadly little beasts as North had. Bunny had to admit, though, North was more likely to get himself stung in this situation. There was no way Rin was getting hurt with the Boogeyman hovering over him like so.

Bunny rubbed his paws together furiously. On some level, he was grateful for all the dangers. They gave him something to think about other than the impending doom that would likely ensue from this encounter with Mother Nature. Sandy noticed Bunny wringing his paws and a question mark appeared with several other symbols asking him if he was alright. "I'm fine, Sandy," Bunny reassured. In all honesty, he really wasn't fine. He was traveling through a forest where even the plants were predators, with his archnemesis leading the way, and they were getting closer to . . . her.

Bunny realized he had lied to Jack Frost. It wasn't that the Guardians didn't speak about Mother Nature. It was just him.

Rin laughed at Pitch's facial expression as he pointed to a snake. "So this will do what to me?"

Pitch wasn't the least bit amused. "Boa constrictor. It'll do exactly as the name says and constrict you. Now stop irritating me and don't play with it."

Rin narrowed his eyes, a sly yet fangless grin spreading across his ashen face. At least he was in his midway form and not completely possessing Jack's body. That apparently required permission. "It hardly looks big enough to do anything."

"Big enough is not an issue in this region," Pitch warned. Pitch realized his mistake when Rin's eyes widened again with delight.

"Ah, so you wanna talk about big enough, now?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Pitch sighed as he spoke.

"I bet you wish Jack's mind was in the gutter more often. That would be tons of fun, and wouldn't we know it!" Rin twirled the staff in his hands, dancing on the tips of his toes as Pitch directed the others where to go.

Pitch grumbled to himself. The only thing more irritating than Rin at the moment was the scent of fear permeating from the Guardians at his back. Any other time, he would thoroughly enjoy that taste. However, he was being distracted by his own anxious thoughts of what was to come. They were closing in on her borders. He'd advised that North land his monstrous mechanism a good distance from it in the event that she reacted to their presence less than appropriately. Pitch didn't doubt her violence. He simply didn't know what degree of violence he could expect of her.

Rin spun in circles before him, laughing at the complicated environment that was the refuge of Mother Nature. Deadly yet beautiful. It seemed oddly fitting for her, and the thought of seeing her after centuries made his stomach turn and twist into knots.

An unnatural snap reached his ears. Pitch's eyes widened and he lurched forward and grabbed Rin around the waist, yanking the boy backwards. Mere seconds later, a barbed arrow pierced the ground where Rin had been. Pitch released the boy, setting him so that he was standing beside him. In his fright, Rin had retreated and Jack had reemerged.

"What the hell was that?!" Jack almost shouted. The Guardians halted behind them, the tension amongst them building at the sight of the arrow.

The Cossack and the twit reached for their swords, but Pitch uttered, "Stop. That was just a warning shot."

"She almost hit Jack," the bird retorted.

Pitch turned to face them, feeling his irritation at their presence returning. "She knew I'd hear it. If she'd wanted Jack dead, she wouldn't have tipped us off." In that moment, something whizzed through his hair. Another barbed arrow buried itself in a tree behind the group, proving his point. Pitch's rage ignited then. He spun back around and stepped deeper into Mother Nature's territory, staring furiously up into the canopy. "Seraphina!"

At that another arrow flew past, cutting a taut vine above their heads. Upon release, a net of vines encased the twit and left her dangling from the canopy screaming. Like clockwork, a series of traps began to unfold, showing Pitch exactly what Mother Nature had at least attempted to warn them of before she set them off. Large roots curled up from underground, snagging the rabbit and the Cossack as they formed a cage against the tree trunk. Pitch and Jack took several steps deeper into the region, avoiding the vines that dropped down and ensnared Sanderson. Grabbing Jack around the waist again, Pitch pulled him into the shadows and teleported them to a branch in the canopy. He watched as three more traps were triggered, leaving the bird struggling within the net, the Cossack and the kangaroo shouting through their wooden prison to her, and Sanderson remaining cool and collected whilst dangling by his limbs from branches.

"Pitch—."

"Stay," Pitch ordered Jack as he ventured back into the shadows and onto the ground. His heart hammered as he searched for Mother Nature and prepared for her to appear and claim her work. "Seraphina, you show yourself right this minute!"

He had the sudden urge to stare up at the canopy. Pitch saw a hand wave, commanding the thick canopy to recede just enough to form a circle of pure sunlight. He backed away, attempting to avoid the obvious trap, and found himself against a tree. Vines then unfurled and pinned him against the bark, one even slipping over his mouth and gagging him. He realized he'd made a mistake too late, and had allowed her to trap him in the one spot in this vicinity without shadow.

He could just barely see through the blinding light the most beautiful face he had ever beheld and could never forget. Piercing silver-gold eyes with cat-like irises stared back at him as she growled, "It's Sera."

Jack rode the wind down from his perch, landing behind the woman that had just captured every single one of his friends without a lick of remorse. He held his staff aloft, taking in her appearance as he moved. Once again, he was faced with someone taller than himself. She had long, thick, black hair that had orchids and vines growing and thriving within the mass. Her skin was splotched with many greens, almost looking like camouflage. She didn't wear the fine dress that Sandy had depicted. Instead, it looked like she wore a brown, leather dress cut down the sides and held in place by a belt that was lined with small pouches. Underneath was what looked like a dark leotard that covered her arms, torso, hips, thighs, and knees. Her shins and feet were bare save for a black dagger strapped to her left calf. Jack's eyes widened at the number of weapons he could see on her. A quiver full of arrows and a now unstrung bow on her back, a hatchet at her waist, and a stone warhammer just over her shoulder made up the rest of her visible arsenal. Given her display of power through the traps she'd set, Jack hardly found it necessary for her to be so heavily armed.

And given her display, he probably shouldn't be challenging her at this moment. But she had the people he cared about trapped and he wasn't about to let her get away with that.

"Let them go!" he said, trying to sound threatening as he pointed his crook at her.

Mother Nature turned and gazed at him, and he finally got a good look at her face. The cat-like eyes threw him off, but her face seemed . . . familiar. He felt a strange sort of recognition as he stared at the shape of her nose and the height of her cheekbones. When she focused in on him, he felt like an insect being studied. Within seconds, however, a grin spread across her face and revealed sharp canines. The feeling of recognition persisted. When she spoke, she almost sounded mirthful. "Well, aren't you adorable, standing there like that twig is going to do anything."

"I said let them go!" he reiterated, his hands starting to tremble.

This only made her eyes narrow and her lips tighten into an even more spiteful grin. She spoke loud enough for the others to hear. "The Guardians? Provided they don't attack, I'll let them go without question." She pulled her hammer over her shoulder, making Jack flinch as she slammed the stone head onto the ground. A wave of energy sliced through the forest, and he dared turn to look at his friends. The vines and roots that had imprisoned them released, returning to their places as Tooth, Sandy, Bunny, and North all gathered and tried to recover. Jack felt a wave of sorrow crash through him as he saw Tooth shaking from having been caged. He knew that feeling of uncontrollable fear all too well. At least North holding her was helping her settle her nerves.

Jack turned back to Mother Nature. "Him too," he declared, gesturing to Pitch. Jack glanced at his partner momentarily, trapped in a circle of light yet again. Jack's chest tightened with rage and anxiety as the woman before him didn't even shift or show any signs of wanting to free him.

"Friend of yours? In that case, you're welcome," she remarked sarcastically.

"Let him go!" Jack shouted, freezing the ground at Mother Nature's feet in the hopes that she might take him seriously.

She hardly even lifted an eyebrow. "Jack Frost, huh? The baby Guardian! I thought that was you."

"Who else would I be?! Now let Pitch go!" he screamed.

"Jack, stop it!" Bunny warned, stepping apart from the others. But Jack was beyond listening to him at the moment.

Mother Nature's eyes narrowed on Jack, most notably his sweater. She drank in his appearance before she turned to the other Guardians. "First of all, you all should not be here. I made it very clear that I wanted nothing to do with any of your business. Second," she looked back at Jack, "why are you so concerned about the Boogeyman's welfare if you're one of them?" It was almost as if she already knew the answer, but was looking for confirmation.

Bunny spoke up again, "Jack, don't—."

"He's more than a friend," Jack snarled.

The fury that ripped across Mother Nature's face was unholy. He didn't have time to react as she kicked dirt up into his eyes, distracting him long enough to slam the hammer into his torso and send him flying backwards. His innards felt inverted as he landed at his friends' feet, coughing and gasping for air. He felt completely limp and powerless as he struggled against the pain. He grasped for his staff, but could hardly sit up let alone locate it. His vision was spotted and blurred, his only functioning sense being hearing.

And boy did he hear some colorful language coming out of Mother Nature.

"Sera, what—?" Bunny exclaimed as he left Jack gasping on the ground in the hands of the other three.

She turned and pointed a now clawed finger at him. "Not right now! This is between me and him!"

Before she turned back to Pitch, Bunny grabbed her forearm and forced her attention back on him. "You just sledgehammered one of our own! He can wait!" Bunny snapped, gesturing at the Nightmare King. He felt just a hint of sympathy for Pitch, who was deviating between staring helplessly at Jack and glaring profusely at Sera and himself. The Boogeyman's whole body tensed against the vines as he struggled to break free.

"He'll recover! I'm sure he's put up with worse from him," she snarled back, yanking her arm out of Bunny's grip and returning her focus to Pitch. "You hypocrite! You disown me after the bloody Man in the Moon chooses me for Guardianship, and this is how you greet me? After hundreds of years, this is how you come back into my life?!" Bunny takes a step back, watching as Sera's fury causes the winds to pick up speed. Pitch's fury matches hers, and Bunny's sure that if the Nightmare King were in the shadows that they'd be roiling as well. Sera snorts mockingly at Pitch's shouting, which was severely muffled by the gag. "Oh, do let's hear your explanation."

The gag on Pitch's mouth drops and he spits green before shouting at her. "I did not disown you! You gave me no ultimatum—."

"You practically told me I was dead to you, and all because of something that a disc in the sky couldn't even bother telling me himself!"

"You were always too chummy with the Guardians, even after the Great War—."

"And now you're screwing one?! Excuse you, but that's a bit more than chummy—!"

"He's not like them, and if he's hurt in any way—!"

"And just how old is he? Three hundred seventeen? That's not even a third of your age—!"

"Seraphina—."

"It's Sera!" she snapped, slamming her hammer down onto the ground again. The hole in the canopy righted itself, bringing Pitch back under the same shadow as the others and releasing him from his binds. When he dropped to the ground and rose to his full height, the shadows did exactly as Bunny suspected and responded to Pitch's rage. Sera spread her arms wide in mock surrender. "And I would love to see what you'd do to me in the event that your toy is injured. Do show me how much tenderness you are capable of showing to a Guardian."

Bunny felt the air leave his lungs at the sound of her spite and stepped back again as the Nightmare King and Mother Nature engaged in a staring contest that would surely baffle even the most intimidating creatures on earth. Pitch's fists clenched until his knuckles were pale as Sera placed her hammer back in its sling. She folded her arms, waiting for his response to her challenge. But he stood still, his rage permeating through the wood. Meanwhile, the Guardians observed silently. When Pitch growled and looked down, unable to strike out against Sera, Bunny stepped forward. "Sera, please—."

"Can it, rabbit!" she snapped without looking at him. "Centuries of isolation, and you still can't even raise a hand to me." She scoffed. "It would've been easier to deal with if you could."

"You're my blood," Pitch grumbled, still furious but resigned to his inability to strike her. "I will never harm you."

"But you have," she remarked.

"Blood?" came Jack's tired voice. Bunny turned to see the boy back on his feet, but hunched over from the blow Sera had dealt him. North held his staff, assuring him that it wasn't lost. Somehow, Bunny didn't think the knockout Sera had given Jack was going to be quite as devastating as this one. "Pitch, what—?"

"He didn't bother telling you he was a father, did he?" Sera said snidely.

The hair on Bunny's body stood on end at the sight of Jack's dismay. "She's your daughter?!" he cried.

Pitch started, "I was going to tell you—."

"Sure you were," Sera interrupted. "Keep fooling him into thinking you can be an honest, reliable man. It's certainly worked for you in the past." One look at Pitch Black and Bunny swore he could hear the Nightmare King thinking, Kill me now.

"Shut up!" Jack said, ignoring his breathlessness and agony and running full force at Mother Nature. "Leave him alone!"

Bunny watched as Jack's eyes went from blue and white to gold and black, and knew that this was no longer Jack they were dealing with. Sera prepared for him, taken aback by his change in appearance. Bunny stepped between Sera and Rin, the boy slamming into his torso before he could slow up and change direction. Bunny gasped at the impact, and in that same breath called for Sandy. Without pause, the Sandman threw a ball of dreamsand at Rin and knocked him out. The boy went limp against him as Bunny lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder.

It was almost as though the Guardians had decided they'd been quiet long enough simultaneously. Tooth flew forward, looking almost completely recovered from her encounter with the net. "Now that you seem to have finished bickering—."

"We haven't—," Sera said.

Bunny could tell that Tooth had had enough. "Listen up! We have a serious problem here. It has the potential to get catastrophic and we've already got one unwilling accomplice on this expedition, so I don't want to hear another word out of you while I explain the situation. Especially when the end bringer is involved."

That struck Sera hard. Her eyes widened, the winds died, and Tooth had her full attention. "Nidhogg?"

"Nidhogg, Pillan, whatever you feel like calling him," Bunny grumbled.

North stepped in. "His minions started targeting us earlier this summer, and only now have we realized that he's behind all the disasters happening in the world. Man in Moon said that you trapped him before. We want to know if you can do it again."

Sera stared blankly at them, her jaw slack. She started glancing around, not out of nervousness but out of . . . was she crying? No, she wasn't. But she was clearly upset, and somehow that made Bunny's stomach turn even now. One of her hands tangled in her mess of hair as she uttered in disbelief, "He can't be . . . he can't be breaking out."

"He is," Tooth stated. "And he's already done plenty of damage to us."

"He's indirectly the reason that Jack is part Fearling, as you may have noticed," North pointed out.

"Give the Boogeyman some credit on that one," Bunny uttered without thinking.

Pitch prepared to lash out as Sandy started flashing warning signals above his head. The Nightmare King growled, "I didn't mean—."

"Enough! Water under the bridge!" Tooth barked. "Can you help us or not?"

Sera still seemed the slightest bit incoherent as she gazed at each of their faces. She closed her eyes, almost as if she were listening to some voice in her head. When she opened her eyes again, she stared at them. "You know for certain it's him?"

"One of his plague spirits admitted it," Bunny told her.

She almost seemed crushed by that knowledge. She said, "Then we don't have much time to fix this."

"You'll help us then?" Tooth asked, her tone not as aggressive as before.

Sera's eyes narrowed on each of them as she recovered her willpower. "On two conditions: one, I'll lead you to him. I'm guessing none of you know how to find him, and even if you did, encountering his army head-on is suicide."

The Guardians exchanged looks, realizing she was right. Bunny spoke up, "Okay, but how do you propose we travel?"

"On foot. Given you lot and your portals and flying apparatuses, they'll be watching the skies." She pinched her sinuses. "That also negates my storms. I'll have to save those for the real battles."

"And your other condition?" North asked.

"Two, once this is done, you stay out of my life. I don't want to see hide nor hair of any of you ever again, even if the Man in the Moon decrees it." She gazed up at the sky, as if searching for the moon. "Especially if he decrees it."

Tension Coils

"Before all this happened, a little warning may have been nice!"

"I wanted to, but—."

"'Oh, by the way Jack, I have a relative who might greet you with a fist bump. To your guts. With a hammer.' You know? A warning like that."

"I didn't expect her to—."

"You didn't expect me to get hurt? Really? Have you seen—?" Jack stopped, knowing full well that he couldn't blame Pitch for his scars or his attack. That would be wrong and unfair. He was accident-prone, but that couldn't be helped. He could already tell Pitch was dealing with his own emotional turmoil, and Jack didn't need to add guilt on top of it.

That didn't mean he was any less pissed for not having been prepared for this encounter.

"Punch him in the face!" Rin suddenly chimed in as the humming in Jack's brain returned. Jack rolled his eyes before shaking his head at the suggestion. "Come on! That was a dick move!"

"Shut up, you!" Jack demanded aloud, preparing to sit up. He gasped at the pain the action brought on.

"Would you look at that. He's crazy like you," a female voice sounded suddenly.

"Stay away from him," Pitch growled to Mother Nature.

"Calm down, I'm not mad at her," Jack whispered pointedly. Pitch's eyes remained narrowed on his daughter, who didn't seem the least bit intimidated by her father's antics. It was just as well. Pitch didn't seem to notice Jack's tone. Jack attempted to sit up and redirect Pitch's attention, but the bruise only made him gasp and fall back onto the Boogeyman's lap. Though it wasn't what Jack had intended, he achieved his goal. Pitch's attention was on him again.

"Yeah, sorry for the blow." Jack wasn't entirely sure Sera was sorry for hitting him. "My temper's atrocious. I'm sure you've met someone with similar anger management issues."

"Your attitude does not come from me," Pitch snarled.

"Are you sure?" Sera retorted, her eyes narrowing as her canines flashed.

"Okay, can we not use Jack as a reason to bicker?" Jack interjected. "I'm kind of exhausted, here."

"Makes me wonder what else he's been used for," Sera muttered to herself. "A punching bag—."

Pitch responded, "Peace treaty—."

"Scratching post—."

"War tool—."

"Cut it out," Jack remarked.

But Sera continued with, "Probably a teddy bear—."

"Bait—."

"Definitely a pillow—."

"Enough, you two!" Jack exclaimed, sitting upright. He immediately regretted his actions as the bruise reminded him of the reason the Guardians had decided to postpone movement until the next day. "Jeez!" he groaned, confronted by yet another worried expression from Pitch. The Nightmare King went to lift up his hoodie again, but Jack stopped him. "It hasn't changed! I promise. You don't have to check it every ten seconds."

"You know, I just figured out what that row of shark teeth was any good for," Sera said, gesturing to Pitch. Then she looked disgusted with herself. "Ugh, I shouldn't have put that image in my own head. Definitely not something I wanted to think about."

"Are you done hovering, or do you have a purpose standing over him?" Pitch snapped. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was the one hovering over Jack, whereas Mother Nature was a good two feet away. Jack groaned. He did not need this. He did not need this at all.

"I was going to offer some remedy for possibly caving in his innards, but you look like you've got it," she said sarcastically.

"You can do that?" Jack asked without hesitation. At this rate, the group wasn't going to get anywhere. He couldn't afford to be out of commission, and he was a little more willing to trust Sera than he'd like to admit. Plus, the pain was only adding to his frustrations with the group for having hidden what may have been some scenario changing information.

She turned back to him. "Sure, if your dog will let me."

Pitch took offense to her terminology. "Seraphina—."

"Sera," she corrected.

"Hey! Chill or I'll make you chill!" Jack interrupted again. He sighed. "Pitch, let her help." The Nightmare King exhaled heavily, then reluctantly sat back enough to allow Mother Nature to come over and join them. She kneeled on the other side of him, reaching into one of the many pouches on her belt with one hand while bringing forward a mortar and pestle he hadn't noticed earlier with the other. He didn't even want to ask how much stuff she carried on her person. As she sprinkled some ingredients in the small bowl, he uttered, "And at least dogs are loyal." Even when he was mad at Pitch, he still defended him. He could practically feel Rin getting revolted with him for not punching the Boogeyman when he said Jack should.

She stopped crushing the leaves to look at him with one eyebrow raised. "Under different circumstances, I think I might have liked you."

Well, that was great comfort. "I'll take that as a compliment," he stated as she resumed mixing the ingredients. Then he squinted. "Liked me how?"

"With a face like that, it's no wonder everyone eyes you the way they do. Do you know how gorgeous you are?" Pitch actually coughed, tightening his grip on the back of Jack's neck. Jack couldn't hold back his blush, or his irritated gasp at Pitch's possessiveness. Seriously, what gave him the right at this time? Jack glared into space, knowing full well that no matter how pissed he was, Pitch still saw him as belonging to him. Meanwhile, Sera saw these reactions and smirked before referring to Pitch. "Don't tell me you didn't see how jealous Bunny was when you demanded he hand Jack over to you."

"Hey!" came Bunny's petulant protest from across the way.

"That's right. No one can tell just how soft he is under all that toughness," she jested, her smirk growing wider as the group started to feel more and more uncomfortable. She tapped the pestle against the mortar, then glanced up at everyone. She rolled her eyes. "There I go, running my mouth again. Only this time, I actually have an audience. Now, are you going to lift up your shirt or is he going to have to do it for you?"

Jack felt Pitch bristle against him. He looked up at his Boogeyman and attempted to reassure him with a smile. However, it may have come across as a leer instead. But Pitch nodded, letting Jack raise his hoodie enough for Mother Nature to apply her ointment. He sighed, unnerved by the feel of the herbs she'd spread on his abdomen. Were they supposed to tingle? "This feels weird."

"It should. You'll heal in no time. Least I could do for knocking you through the air."

"Yeah, gimme a heads-up before you do that again, please?" Jack requested.

"She might do a better job warning you than the others," Rin grumbled. Jack ignored him.

"One can only try," she responded, standing and turning away. Her gaze turned sullen. "We should probably rest up. We've got a dragon to hunt." With that, she scaled a tree and disappeared into the canopy. Jack stared after her, finally taking a moment to let their situation sink in. Then and there, he realized just how unsure of his feelings about everything he'd learned.

Pitch had a daughter. Pitch's daughter was Mother Nature. They borderline hated one another. Well, she hated him from what Jack could tell. She was supposed to be a Guardian, but had turned Manny down. He hadn't thought anyone could turn down such an offer. Of course, he'd also initially refused Guardianship but had eventually given in.

Of course, had he and Pitch known each other beforehand . . . .

He didn't want to think about that again. Not with this new information coursing through his mind. Suddenly, a lot of Pitch's bitterness and hatred for the Guardians made more sense. A wave of guilt flew through him. Honestly, if he were Pitch, he wouldn't want to tell anyone about this sort of thing either.

"You're supposed to be mad, remember? Punch him!" Rin encouraged.

"Shut up, Rin!" Jack snapped again. Even Pitch seemed shocked at his outbursts.

"Do it or I'll tell Pitch your dirtiest thoughts about him!"

"You wouldn't dare . . . ."

"Like how you have to think twice before smacking his—."

"Rin! Cool it!"

"NO!" Just to shut him up, Jack balled his hand into a fist and slugged Pitch in the shoulder. It was so weak that Pitch hardly even looked at it. "You call that a punch?"

"Yes, now shut up and let me rest," Jack ordered. Rin finally listened and the humming came to an end.

"Do I even want to know?" Pitch asked.

Jack shook his head, then let his previous thoughts resume. He looked at the Guardians, then at Pitch. His chest heaved. The bruise was bothersome, but somehow the pain and aggravation were dulled by his previous realizations. Or it could be the medicine.

Then something struck him. A memory. In Antarctica, one of the things Pitch said he'd longed for was a family. That was definitely something the Guardians had. They weren't blood, but they had a bond. A bond that had been severed for Pitch.

Because of them. Severed because of them. At least, that's what it sounded like. Jack still didn't have the whole story. He did have enough, though. Enough to realize just how painful a subject this must be for Pitch. Again, guilt washed over him.

"I think I get it," he began with a whisper. "They didn't just take your believers away." Pitch looked down at him, his face one of surprise. "They took your family. That's why you took my rejection so hard." Pitch was silent, but he really didn't need to say anything. His face said it all. He looked down, almost ashamed of feeling that level of vulnerability in front of Jack. It struck Jack how little he really knew about Pitch, how sensitive he was about things like this. He was sensitive about anything regarding feelings, to be honest. But Jack knew that Pitch didn't just up and kill for anyone. Jack meant something to Pitch. Jack only hoped that one day Pitch would trust him enough to explain all this to him. "Pitch?" Jack asked. Pitch stayed silent and wouldn't look at him. Jack sighed, then reached up and turned Pitch's head himself. Pitch closed his eyes momentarily before finally meeting Jack's gaze. "Pitch, listen carefully. I may be mad at you, but . . . I still trust you. I. Trust. You. Are we clear? Now, that means you don't have to fess up right away. Even now that I've been hammered in the guts by a daughter I had no idea you had, I'm still willing to trust you." Jack sighed before continuing. "Please, have a little faith in me too?"

Pitch gave him no verbal answer. He blinked, his lips tightened, and then he released a tired sigh. Before long, he was pulling Jack closer to him, embracing him as tightly as he could without hurting him. Jack smiled slightly to himself, but realized that this really didn't cut it for an answer. He found himself wondering if the Nightmare King trusted him at all.

"Crikee!" Bunny grumbled, his heart pounding as he slipped off the branch a little. He was not a climber. He wasn't meant to leave the ground. This was not his place. Why was he here? Doing what he'd always done, of course. What was that, one might ask? Not what he was supposed to be doing.

He managed to climb up a little higher into the canopy before slipping and cursing again. At that, he heard a soft chuckle. "You suck."

"Bite me, you bloody git. Not everyone's equipped to claw their way up a damn tree," he griped. He was thankful that Sera at least came down to his level and didn't force him any higher. He didn't want to think about how he was going to get down after this. "If it's any consolation, I'm not exactly pleased to be working with your old man either."

She snorted sarcastically. "You're not pleased that he managed to steal your latest love interest, is what you're really trying to say."

Bunny's ears flattened, his eyes narrowing on her. "'A,' Jack is not my new love interest. 'B,' I have a great deal more to hate about him than that."

"Yeah. I know," she whispered. She'd heard it before, how Pitch had taken everything from Bunny. He was the last of his kind because of the wars Pitch Black had waged. He'd almost succeeded in destroying Earth during the Great War. Had it not been for the Guardians, he would have succeeded.

Had Mother Nature not intervened, Pitch may have died during the war. But Bunny had long since stopped holding that against her. How could he?

Adjusting his seat on the branch, he turned to face her. She was gazing down at the others, her facial expression sad. Bunny still wasn't ready to look down, yet. Seeing the sadness in her eyes almost made him want to reach out to her. Instead, he addressed the subject he'd felt obligated to address and at the same time feared to. "I wanted to look for you, you know?"

She didn't look at him. She just sighed. "It wasn't fair. Manny should've known not to ask that of me. It's almost as if he knew how Pitch would react. He thought it would push me to your side, but—."

"If those were Manny's intentions, then you should've known I wasn't for it," he interrupted.

She looked up then. It struck him how different she was from the Mother Nature he once knew. She was hardened, more battle-ready than the Guardians. He'd say time out of service had affected them in the opposite way. They had softened a great deal. Sera had always been brutal, but after the Great War she'd at least been . . . Bunny didn't know. She wasn't happy, optimistic, or anything of the sort. She had always been saucy, and likely couldn't have that beaten out of her. But she hadn't been this jaded. That he knew for sure.

"Sometimes I wished people would stop believing in me," she said. "I don't have to go through all of what the Guardians do for them. Humans look at a tree and think of me. It's stupid, really. I just wanted to disappear." Her fingers tapped against the branch she was sitting on. "Then sometimes I'd just get so lonely, and I'd find myself wishing for company again."

"You didn't have to stay away," Bunny said honestly. "It's not like anyone knew about us anyway."

A small smile crept across her lips. "I couldn't do that to you." She paused, as if thinking for a while. "He thought I was chummy. The only Guardian I ever spoke to for any length of time was you."

Bunny grinned. "Even then, it was mostly kicks and punches."

"You liked it." They smiled at one another. Then her brow creased and she frowned again. "Why was it always easier just to talk to you?"

Bunny looked away. It was his turn to snort. "Why is it still easy?"

Sera shook her head. Neither of them knew. They sat in prolonged silence as Bunny finally got the nerve to look down at his friends. He was immediately taken aback by how high they were. Before he got sick, he looked straight ahead through the canopy. His moment of panic was interrupted by Mother Nature asking, "If you wanted to find me, why didn't you?"

Bunny wasn't sure how to answer that. "Because . . . ," he stalled. He inhaled and tried again. "Because I . . . I thought you wanted to be left alone."

She didn't look at him. He looked up, but her expression was unreadable. She just kept staring down at the others. Then, as if to change the subject, she gestured to Jack Frost and asked, "Why him?"

"What?"

"I mean, he's cute, but why do you like him? It's obvious why he likes him."

The fact that Pitch had no name or title to her bothered Bunny on some level. It made him wonder if she resented him about as much, but in a different way. That could be why she never returned. It made sense that she refused to speak to her father, but Bunny? Why had he been left behind after their friendship had been almost thoroughly established? He sighed, going along with her evasive questions. "To be honest, he's a little shit!"

"I can tell."

"But he made people believe in me. And he's . . . he's not a bad fella. He's just . . . Jack. There's no other way I can describe him." Bunny's ears twitched and he sighed. "He isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's trustworthy. And devoted. That, I like."

"He sounds like a ray of sunshine. And yet he's with him," she said aloud, referring to Pitch. Again, her refusal to name her father bothered Bunny. They were close once. Very close. So close that her friendship with Bunny was a constant torment for her. She always felt like she was betraying him somehow.

And to have him turn on her for something that wasn't even her decision? Bunny hadn't been there. In fact, no one but Sera and Pitch knew what happened. All he knew was that the fight must've been terrible.

It was then that he realized what about Sera that had put him off earlier. Before Manny had named her a candidate for Guardianship, she used to have butterflies surround her hair and drink the nectar from her orchids. There were no butterflies around her now. Not a one. Seeing her without her butterflies was about as odd as seeing Tooth with her swords again.

He wondered what else she'd lost after she and her father had their falling out and left the Guardians and Manny without an answer.

Mother Nature had never known what drew the rabbit towards her. Maybe it was her disposition. Maybe it was her connections. Maybe it was strictly because the forbidden was tempting. A friendship between enemies of this nature had, indeed, been incredibly tempting. Looking at the company she had now, though, she felt incredibly lost.

Sera could practically feel the tension coiling within the group. Some did not want to be here. Some wanted answers. Some did not want to fight. Some just wanted to burn the last of their bridges and disappear. She was among the latter.

Hiding was normal for her. It wasn't because she had adversaries, though she'd met her match once or twice millennia ago. She hadn't spoken to any immortal for a good long while, and she'd hoped it would stay that way. At least, she thought she'd hoped. Confusion set in. Rage came with it as she stared down at the one person she'd once claimed she would risk her life for. There he was, clinging to a Guardian. He was closer to a Guardian than he was to her, now. She didn't want to feel jealous. She didn't want to feel anything. She didn't want them here, and yet here was this hypocrisy staring her in the face.

If he'd caught her clinging to the rabbit in such a fashion, they'd both be dead. Her old feelings for Bunny were the last things she wanted to deal with right now, and having the rabbit right in front of her trying to tell her how he felt didn't help. Had she missed him? Had she missed any of them? She'd be lying if she said no. She'd be lying if she said yes in some cases.

They had put her into compromising situations before. Did they realize that this one would be no different? Most likely not. They didn't even know who they were making her face. All they knew was that he was going to consume the world with his armies if they didn't imprison him again. It would be senseless to try to kill him. That would be as successful as trying to kill her or her . . . .

She couldn't call him anything. He was dead to her. Whether he liked it or not, she was going to remain dead to him. Sooner or later, that new toy of his was going to realize that he would have to choose, just as she had.

And she just didn't want to be around for another explosion.

The Coil Tightens

The journey was exhausting. The climate was uncomfortable. The tension throughout the group was palpable. The person leading the operation at the time was impossible to work with, speak to, or keep up with, and the one person Pitch felt comfortable with wasn't talking to him. Pitch reasoned it was nervousness. Jack hadn't been wholly himself since the encounter with the plague spirits. He also suspected the anxiety stemmed from the impending fight with the end bringer. Pitch kept catching glimpses of the boy's guilt whenever he made eye contact with him, although Pitch didn't know what the winter spirit could possibly feel guilty for. In time, he would know. That's how Pitch operated.

But it was the suspicion in Jack's gaze that struck a nerve with the Nightmare King. Something kicked in his chest whenever he received that look, and it reminded him of the fog that had overcome him at the beginning. The beginning of this relationship started with an odd feeling within him and now something similar was happening again. What could that possibly mean?

Pitch never really liked change. Change often meant the worst for him. Jack had been an exception on more than one occasion. He hoped the boy stuck to that trend.

But Jack had always been talented at wrecking his best laid plans.

The group continued without stopping, Mother Nature leaping from tree to tree as she led them to their destination. Neither she nor those older than her could deny the pressure on the troupe. It wasn't just the pressure of what they were setting out to do, the weight of responsibility. It wasn't just the tension amongst certain group members that caused the pressure. It took everything she had not to look to Bunny. Every now and then, when they had a spare moment, he would give her a reassuring glance or a smile that reminded her of better days. But she would die before she returned those glances, for that would be admitting that she was glad to see him again. She'd already shown him too much. The same went for . . . him. She would never let him find out that his presence greatly threw her off her game.

Plus, he had his own onus weighing down on him. A pinprick of emotion sparked inside of her at the way the baby Guardian was looking at him, but she squashed it before she allowed herself to recognize it. She didn't want to feel for these people. Not again. Feeling for them never bode well for her.

No, the weight was more. She felt movement. She felt revival. She felt an influx of power that left her weary. She almost felt the same sense of weakness coming off the Guardians. She'd only known one creature capable of wielding this much energy, and it had taken everything in her power to bind and imprison him.

Sera blinked as she leapt to another tree, struggling with those memories. She struggled not to think in general, most days. But being alone, she'd always had plenty of time to think, and all she could think about was how everything usually came crashing down when the moon decided to open its big mouth. Centuries of silence and she didn't even get am 'I'm sorry' from him. No, she only got an 'S.O.S,' a plea to save his precious humans once again.

The Guardians can think that she entered into this deal because she cared for the world or whatever if they wanted to. She was more begrudging than that. This was a matter of settling old business, and feelings couldn't cloud her mind if this was going to work. She needed to get this over with and get back to her life. Alone. So she shut out her thoughts and continued onward.

There were times where Jack was kind of glad to have Rin. He was very honest for something that Jack had once viewed as just dark and manipulative. There were times where the ingrate was helpful to Jack and Pitch.

"I don't see why you don't just kick him where the sun doesn't shine and force him to spill everything." This was not one of those times.

"It doesn't work that way," Jack whispered. He didn't need to add that the sun never shone on Pitch anyway. Well . . . if Pitch had any say in it, it didn't.

"Did you say something, mate?" Bunny asked. Jack shook his head quickly.

"Sure it works that way! Things don't have to be complex or complicated all the time. The two of you sure do make it complex and complicated, that's for sure."

"Enough out of the peanut gallery," Jack grumbled through gritted teeth.

"You're talking to the Fearling again, aren't you?" Jack just gave Bunny a tired look and sighed. Had he any energy, he would be riding the wind right now. Out of earshot. But Jack didn't really have that kind of energy. He and the rest of the group seemed to be more exhausted than usual.

"You're not getting anywhere by being quiet," Rin finalized before the buzzing in Jack's head subsided.

Jack didn't want to think about what Rin was suggesting. A confrontation with Pitch wouldn't be very smart considering the timing. However, Jack really did want to know what had happened amongst the Guardians, Sera, and Pitch. Only days ago did he become aware that there were other Guardians aside from the five here. He'd known Pitch and the Guardians had fought before, but hadn't considered that that fight may have been a full-scale war. There was so much he didn't know, and the only person who could fill in the smaller details was Pitch. More than anything, Jack just wanted to know why Pitch hadn't bothered mentioning that he'd had family or how he'd lost them. It wasn't like Jack was unaccustomed to that sort of loss. Jack knew Pitch was a private creature. It was amazing that he was willing to even sleep around Jack. But Pitch should know that Jack . . . .

Of course. He didn't know that Jack wouldn't hurt him. One look at the Nightmare King's injuries from this relationship and Jack knew that he wasn't going to get an easy answer from the Boogeyman. He was still a Guardian. Still an enemy. Pitch might as well be physically unable to trust him.

That realization hurt more than Jack thought it would. Pitch didn't trust him. What right did Jack have to ask for that trust, though?

"You trust him. Isn't that enough?" Rin returned full force.

"Please shut up. You're not helping."

"Mate, I hate to break it to ya, but you're gettin' weird over there," Bunny added.

"You're not helping either," Jack muttered. No one was helping. They were only contributing to the twisting sensation in his chest. He really didn't need this right now. He really, really just needed to not have doubts in Pitch, get this over with, and go home. He could not afford to feel this petty over something.

"This isn't petty! Would you listen to yourself?" Rin wasn't letting up, his buzzing growing louder.

"After all he's done? I can wait a little longer," Jack whispered as quiet as he could. He sincerely hoped no one heard him, just as he sincerely hoped that he would eventually believe his own words.

"Stop," his Boogeyman spoke from beside him. He hadn't realized the kangaroo and the Nightmare King had traded places whilst walking.

Jack exhaled louder than he'd done with Bunny, wondering just how much of Rin's conversation the Nightmare King could hear. "Stop what?"

Of course, if he could hear it, Pitch was still very good at not letting onto it. Damn him. "That guilt. That . . . sadness. It's—."

"It's what? Uncomfortable? I'm sorry, but I can't stop feeling just because it puts a bad taste in your mouth."

"Nice!" Rin chimed in.

"Shut up, you."

As soon as the words fled his mouth, he realized just how quiet the forest had become. Moreover, he realized the gang had stopped moving. He looked around, the silence dissolving his current state of mind. Not even the hundreds of animals he didn't know the names of spoke. It was dead quiet. Panic took its place in the forefront of Jack's head and Rin's humming grew four times louder. Raising his staff, he prepared for what he thought was coming.

He thought right. Plague spirits surged from the canopy and surrounded the Guardians, Pitch, and Sera. Each gripped their weapons tightly and jumped into battle. Sera swung her hammer in warning, her arrows ineffective against the skeletal structures of the Huecuvus. Tooth and North stuck together with their swords, Bunny readying his egg bombs and boomerangs as Sandy prepped his whips. Pitch summoned his scythe and stayed close to Jack, and Jack stayed close to him. Their hearts hammered in their throats, but they soon realized the creatures weren't attacking. They were just enveloping them to prevent escape.

Once the group was surrounded, the Guardians plus two forming a circle so that no side was unguarded, a plague spirit spoke shrilly. "The end bringer sends a message."

Another spoke, "He says 'hello Mother Gaia.'"

"Oh how touching," Sera whispered half-heartedly.

"Out of respect, he warns that you should turn back the way you came."

"Now he shows respect," Bunny grumbled, his paws twitching around the boomerangs.

"Only for Mother dear," a third interrupted. "You Guardians will still meet your end. Our master is not foolish enough to try to end nature personified."

"Yet," the first spat.

"As comforting as that may be, I can't allow him to break free from his prison," Sera retorted. There was a note in her voice that made Jack pause to pay attention to her expression. It was hardened, but he recognized that face. He saw it every time Pitch was hiding something from him.

The Huecuvus cackled. Then another said, "His bonds have never been this loose before. Soon he will devour your world, just as the Man in the Moon forewarned."

"And you won't be able to stop him this time, Mother—."

Before the creature could finish its sentence, Sera's hammer came crashing down on its head. The other plague spirits screeched as they watched their fellow devotee shatter. Sera lifted her hammer and gestured to them. "Send him this message: I will not sit back and allow him to chew his way out of his prison and burn a path across the earth. This is not the world's end. This is his end." Jack shuddered. That rage definitely came from Pitch.

"Then you will burn with him," several answered in unison. The Guardians and Pitch tensed as the plague spirits started closing in on them.

To Jack's astonishment, Sera snorted at the threat. "Burn me, then. It'll be like a volcano erupting on a forest. I'll just come back stronger and more powerful than before."

"You need believers to have that kind of power," a plague spirit countered.

"No you don't, or else fear would have died centuries ago," Pitch remarked.

Sera blinked at his defense of her, but didn't acknowledge him any further. "And I couldn't lose believers if I tried," she muttered.

"You will not win!"

"Try me!" she hissed, pupils shrinking as she bore her fangs.

The plague spirits fell upon them then. Jack lost sight of the others and got separated from Pitch as he shot bolts of ice at any skeletal being in sight. The ice was effective most of the time, shattering the creatures on impact. However, there was an overwhelming number of them. Panic rose in him, and the thrumming in the back of his head became so distracting that the spirits were managing to land some blows now. He hadn't realized that he was still slightly sore in the gut until two managed to tackle him. He froze them solid rather hastily.

"Let me out, Jack!" Rin pleaded.

"Not yet," Jack growled, throwing the deteriorating carcasses off of him. The onslaught had slowed, and he took the chance to leap onto the wind and gain higher ground. He tried to regain some semblance of where everyone was. He couldn't see Pitch. Where was he?

"He's fine. Shadow jumping and crap, now let me out!" Rin demanded.

"Not. Yet!" Jack reiterated as more plague spirits emerged from the woods. Something else emerged with them. "No . . . ," Jack uttered, his eyes widening. His body trembled at the sight of them, remembering how his last chance meeting with them had gone.

Monkey men were supposed to be extinct, and yet here they were. Tooth looked just as horrified as he felt. There was no way Jack could fight them. Not here. Not yet. Not—.

He forgot all of his previous anxieties over their relationship as Jack realized he really needed Pitch right then. Unfortunately, all he had was Rin. "Now, Jack!"

He didn't think twice. "Rin, you have my permission." And Jack was gone.

The battle got bloody very quickly with the emergence of the monkeys, the Guardians plus two showing very little remorse to the abominations. Tooth and Pitch were the most brutal, or so they thought. Every now and then, Pitch caught glimpses of a certain shadow appearing and reappearing. Every now and then, he heard Rin's absurd amount of laughter. The very sound was bone chilling.

The battle didn't last long once the monkeys appeared and the plague spirits dissipated. The monkey men were more cowardly than those who'd enslaved them. They retreated quickly upon realizing their opponents were not reluctant in shedding their blood. Pitch couldn't even remember witnessing this level of brutality amongst the Guardians. Not since the war that ended his reign. It was refreshing, tasting their distress and loath again after so long.

"Where's Jack?" the twit suddenly asked. And soon his giddiness was clouded by his own fear.

Extending his shadows, he searched for the boy frantically. There was a moment of terror at the notion that the surviving beasts may have taken him. That terror was squelched once he located Jack. He didn't take the time to alert the others that the winter spirit had been found. He simply teleported to him, leaving them wondering where the both of them went.

The state in which Pitch found Jack revived the panic inside him. Jack had his legs tucked under him as he stared at the corpse of a monkey man. Even Pitch was surprised at the condition of the corpse: its throat had been torn out and a pool of blood had already soaked into the rainforest soil. Pitch dropped to his knees before the boy, ignoring the blood seeping into his own clothes and drawing the attention of the winter spirit away from the body before him and onto Pitch. As soon as the young Guardian realized he wasn't alone anymore, Jack started rubbing at the blood on his hoodie, hands, neck, and face furiously. Pitch almost shuddered at the thought of Rin using Jack's mouth to cause such damage to the monkey man's throat. He went to touch the winter spirit's hand, but the boy jerked away, squeezing his wild eyes shut and pulling his colorless hair. Pitch was practically digesting the boy's anxiety and trauma, and it made him sick.

"I couldn't fight them," Jack whispered. His whole body was trembling. "I couldn't fight them, so I told Rin . . . I let Rin . . . ," he couldn't finish. He was ready to sob, and that tore Pitch open.

"Jack—."

"I can't get the blood off," the boy interrupted. "I can't. It's frozen. It won't come off. It's in my mouth. I can taste it. It won't come off!" His eyes shot open again as he began clawing at his face, as if his nails could scrape the blood from his flesh.

"Jack, don't," Pitch begged, preparing to grab the boy's hands. He thought better of it, though, knowing just what that would do to him while he was like this. He didn't need the setback in his progress. Instead, he placed his hands on either side of Jack's face.

Jack clenched his fists, his eyes shutting again as he shook. He began muttering something that seemed unintelligible at first. Soon Pitch could hear him saying, "Don't let them find me like this," over and over again.

"Jack, listen to me—."

"Please don't let—."

"Jack—."

"Don't let them—."

"Jack, please—."

"Not like this—."

"Jack Frost, listen to me right now." That stopped the boy from muttering. He even opened his eyes a little to look at the Nightmare King. "You're safe, do you hear me?" The boy hesitated, but soon nodded. "We're going to get you cleaned up, alright?" Jack nodded again, then closed his eyes and leaned into Pitch's chest. Pitch wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight as sobs began racking the boy's body.

Pitch felt a familiar presence behind him. Rather, two familiar presences. He turned his head only a little to confirm who he thought was there. Sanderson and Seraphina were, in fact, behind him. Fortunately, Jack had not noticed their arrival. The two were courteous enough not to gawk at Rin's handiwork, at least. Sanderson gestured to Jack, then used his sand to ask if he should put the boy to rest. Pitch nodded curtly, still wanting to keep Jack from realizing their presence. The Sandman made quick work of Jack, the winter spirit asleep in Pitch's arms within seconds. Once his work was done, the little man walked away and left Seraphina and Pitch alone.

Pitch glanced up at Seraphina then. "You led him to us?"

His daughter's face was expressionless even as she stared at the body and nodded. "Figured he needed it."

Pitch squinted. "The others?"

"They're recovering. Regrettably, they trust you with their baby Guardian."

Pitch and Seraphina stared each other down, and Pitch picked up on the centuries of anger and melancholy in his daughter. It was instinctual for him to want to comfort her, even now. But that wasn't what she wanted. All he would be met with was rejection. "Why are you showing an interest in him?"

She pursed her lips the same way he did when he was thinking hard about something. "Maybe I don't want him to have quite the rude awakening that I did when the shite hit the fan."

Pitch sighed and looked away, frustrated. "You still think I repudiated you?"

"I was going to say no, you know. I was gonna tell the Man in the Moon to take his offer and shove it in not so many words. But you didn't trust me to make my own decision." Pitch shut his mouth and stared down at Jack's sleeping form. He closed his eyes, fighting the fog teaming in his chest. It now spread to his head. He heard her sigh in disgust. "You haven't changed. You still clam up when someone calls you out on your distrust."

"Seraphina—."

"Please. Just don't."

"I lost my temper—."

"You think?"

"The Man in the Moon took everything from me!" he growled out at last. He checked to make sure Jack was still asleep before saying a little less aggressively, "I just knew he was going to try to take you too."

Her face hardened as she struggled to hide her rage. Was it rage? No, it was confusion. He didn't need to taste the emotion to identify it. He still knew his daughter after all. She was just like him in so many ways. Did she inherit anything from her mother?

She said, "He didn't succeed." There was a pause before she added, "You were the one who pushed me away."

"Seraphina—."

"Don't!" she snapped. Her shoulders shook as she struggled to maintain her composure. Her gaze kept dancing between Pitch and the body of the monkey man. Then she shut her eyes and evened out her tone with him. "To be honest, I was going to warn him," she pointed at Jack, "of what to expect from you. I was gonna tell him what you might do in one of your fits of anger, what you might say to him should he be called away from your side to honor his oath. Instead, I'm going to tell you this." He could see her wrestling with her feelings, the way he did when he had something to say but really didn't want to have to say it. "Don't make the same mistake twice."

"Ser—?"

"Don't play coy. You know what I'm talking about. Don't do it. Try trusting someone, just once." She rubbed her temples, muttering, "We can't afford to face Nidhogg like this. We have to be ready, and that requires cooperation and group effort."

Pitch sensed the turmoil within her, and couldn't help but ask, "Does it hurt you so to face him again?"

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop trying to be my dad again."

She stomped away at that, leaving him with a sleeping, bloody Jack Frost. And it was about to storm.

Sera stalked through corpses, reminded of the war that had torn her world asunder. The war that had eventually left her without an ally to look to for support. The war that had left her alone in these woods. She shook her head, felt her hands shaking as she lost control of her emotions. This happened sometimes, but she was usually alone when it happened. Why did this have to happen when she was with these people? These spirits had abandoned her, made her choose, forgotten her testimony to remain unbound to either party, forced her into a life of loneliness. They didn't deserve to see her break. And him. How dare he pretend to care about her and who she was about to destroy!

She stalked through the Guardians, none of whom asking why she was in the state that she was in. Save for one, that is. She had never missed him following her and forcing her to talk.

"Sera?"

"No, Bunny."

"Sera, what's wrong?"

"Just leave me alone, Bun—."

"No!" He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "I'm right here. Talk to me!"

She glared at him for having stopped her dead in her tracks. His expression remained stern, however. He wasn't going to leave her alone until she spoke. He would be waiting a very long time. "I don't want to—."

"If you don't talk, you'll be no better than him." Bunny pointed back in his general direction.

She bristled all over and could hear the thunder crackling in the distance as her frustration grew. "Take that back."

"No."

The thunder grew louder. "Take. That. Back."

"I won't. Cooperate. You said that's what we needed, so do it."

"You EAVESDROPPER!" She launched herself at him, knocking him down onto his back. She sat on his chest, pulling her dagger from its sheath and touching the black metal to his chin. "TAKE IT BACK!"

"Hush, or everyone will hear you and find you holding that," Bunny warned. He was still calm. Too calm. She regretted desensitizing him to her sudden attacks long ago, because right then she needed him to take her seriously and recant his statement.

"I'm nothing like him!" she growled, feeling her pupils dilate in the growing darkness.

"Says the gal holding her father's dagger to my throat. If you hate him so much, why'd you keep it?"

"You heard everything I said. You don't want me to talk. You just want to pester me." She wanted to press the dagger's tip further into his coat, but found herself frozen stiff. She couldn't move or make herself do as her mind willed. She grit her teeth angrily as she instead returned the knife to its sheath, furious with herself for being unable to really hurt him.

"I want to make sure you're not being hypocritical. I know you hate hypocrisy."

"Why do both of you have to pretend you care about my wellbeing? At the same bloody time, no less," she snarled, but she realized she didn't have his attention. "Are you even listening to me?" His gaze remained distant. "Earth to bloody rabbit!"

"You . . . ," he uttered, his paw reaching up to touch something at the nape of her neck. She stiffened when she realized what he was looking at. "You kept this too."

She could just see out of the corner of her eye the magenta aster he pulled from the black mass that was her hair. She had rearranged it so that it was no longer behind her ear, but buried beneath her locks so that she didn't have to notice it. The only flowers visible in her hair were the orchids. But yes, she had kept the one thing Bunny had given her when they were friends. The aster was his namesake, and it thrived in the bush that was her hair.

Closing her eyes, she turned her head to the side and tucked the flower back into its hiding spot. Standing up, she left Bunny on the ground. He sat up as she asked, "Why did you all have to come back? I was fine without you."

"We wouldn't have—."

"You don't need to answer. I just . . . I can't do this. I can't just go back to the way things used to be, no matter how much you might want it to." She thought for a moment. "Or how much I might want it to."

"Sera—."

"I can't talk about this with you anymore, Bunny. I already have to fight one person I used to love. Don't add to it. Please."

Bunny's ears flattened against his head. "You fully intend to disappear again after this is over." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.

She turned her back on him so he couldn't see her fighting the need to scream out of frustration and confusion. "And this time, none of you will know where to find me." She prepared to leap into the trees. "You waited too long the last time."

With that, she took her place in the canopy. Bunny was left with the rain falling down on his head.

She didn't hate them, but she did resent them. That much, Bunny knew. He felt like a fool. Everything Mother Nature did had a definitive purpose. Why had it never occurred to Pitch that she had allowed him to know her location? That she had wanted them to find her?

She was right. They'd waited too long to try and fix what had been broken between her and the Guardians. Between her and Pitch. They'd only sought her out now because they'd needed her. Not because they wanted her to come back.

Bunny stared up at the clouded sky, wondering if Manny could still see them through the storm. "I'll never understand why you do the things you do. But I hope you have a plan."

Because once this was over, he was going to lose her again. And he didn't think he could handle a second time. He could only imagine how his enemy Pitch felt.

Release

Jack woke up to the sound of thunder and the flash of lightning. His eyes shot open, and he was soon grateful for the dreamless sleep. He remembered where he was and what had happened. He grabbed his hoodie, staring and checking for stains. He stared down at his hands, touched his face, rubbed his neck. No blood. It was gone. He worked his jaw. Yes, it was still sore from what he had come to believe was Rin's signature move. Jack didn't think he could ever get used to the guy's love for biting.

A loud crack made him jump and shove himself under the . . . leaf? Leaves could really get that big? He stopped questioning it. He settled with being merely grateful for the cover from the rain. "Pitch?" he asked.

"Here," the Boogeyman spoke up from behind.

Jack jumped again, unaware that there was even someone behind him. He supposed he should be used to Pitch's rather stalker-like tendencies by now, but there were times when he still caught Jack by surprise. That wasn't hard when Jack was already shaky. "Try not to scare me for a bit, okay?" Jack was at least hoping for a quip or smirk, but no. Pitch just stared up at the sky.

"Beautiful, isn't she. When she's enraged." Jack said nothing in response. He just followed Pitch's gaze up into the storm. Jack glimpsed back at the Nightmare King, Pitch's expression despondent and bordering . . . depressed. Jack couldn't recall seeing Pitch this sad. He'd seen him emotional. He'd seen him angry. He'd seen just about everything in Pitch, even the slightest hint of . . . he didn't want to use the word love, but it worked. But he'd never seen this amount of sorrow.

He realized now may not be the best time, but he had to ask. "What happened? Between the two of you?" Pitch still stared unblinkingly at the sky, almost as if he didn't hear Jack. Or maybe he was ignoring the question. Figures. "Pitch, are you ever going to answer me?" He suddenly felt like he was talking to the moon again. Expressionless, silent, unyielding, and no comfort to be found whatsoever. Suddenly, he was feeling his own sadness creeping back in. There was something about silence that unnerved him. That something, of course, was the reminder that there'd been nothing but silence for him for three hundred years. He'd never taken not being seen lightly. Eventually it had jaded him, but now it just angered him. He felt his hands start shaking as he struggled to hide his upset from Pitch. Pitch would feel it though. Eventually, he would feel it. Jack just didn't want that now. He wanted answers, but he wasn't going to get them. "Where are the others?"

"They have their own shelter somewhere off." Oh, now he answers Jack. That only fueled Jack's anger. He glanced about, locating his staff. He went to grab it, but thought better of it. He shouldn't wield his staff while water was falling from the sky. He'd turn into an ice cube, and then he'd need Pitch's help again, and then he'd have to deal with that guilt again, and the last thing he needed . . . .

He calmed down before Rin's thrumming started up and he lost control of his body again. Another thing he just didn't need. It bothered him that he was suddenly so angry with Pitch, but he couldn't really help it. He was tired of not being among those who knew what the hell was up. That recent encounter with the plague spirits had only confused him more, and he just needed clarity. But no one was willing to give him that clarity.

He knew Pitch cared for him, but he hadn't realized just how little he trusted Jack. Only at that thought did Jack's sudden rage make sense. He was more hurt than angry, but again, Pitch didn't need to know that now. So he stood up and stepped into the rain, looking for the other Guardians.

"What are you doing?" And now Pitch was going to ask him questions. Great.

"Finding the others." The rain was cold, but that didn't bother him. It was leaving a thin layer of frost over his body, but was also dissolving rather quickly.

"You started to freeze over in the rain earlier. You shouldn't be—."

"I've travelled through rain for three hundred years. I know what will turn me into a popsicle and what won't."

For a moment, Jack thought Pitch was going to leave him alone. In fact, he hoped for it. He didn't want to argue, but he knew that he would if Pitch pushed him. And Pitch didn't realize how close to the edge he was. So when the Boogeyman manifested in front of him, Jack grunted in aggravation. He thought Pitch's lair was full of shadows, but Mother Nature's domain seemed to be even worse. "You're upset about something," Pitch stated the obvious.

"Yeah, you ignore my questions. I thought I was done being ignored, but no."

"I am not ready to talk, Jack."

"Then say that! Don't just sit there and let me think you don't trust me." Pitch's face fell briefly. Jack squinted, knowing it wasn't remorse he was seeing in his partner. "You don't, do you?" Pitch didn't answer. He didn't need to. Pitch's silence was more telling than his words at times, and this silence sealed Jack's concerns in place. He'd been right after all. He hated being right, because he usually thought the worst. "All this time you've been asking me if I trusted you. I should've been the one asking." He sidestepped Pitch, then continued walking.

"Jack, you don't understand—."

"I don't understand what?" he spun around and shouted at Pitch. "Not having your family there for you? Being completely alone? I don't know what loss feels like?" Pitch's eyes were wide at Jack's outburst. Jack exhaled heavily, then quickly inhaled upon realizing what they were doing. "Haven't we had this conversation before?"

"And look how well that one turned out!" Pitch's own fury ignited at the memory of Antarctica.

"You know what? Look how well all of this turned out! I mean . . . I'm standing in the rainforest, getting rained on no less, with a second personality and a partner whose daughter hates him and tried to tenderize me. Like meat!"

"Yes, my daughter hates me. And why? Because of Guardians like you, always interfering in my business."

Though it stung to hear Pitch say that, Jack was too angry to let that stop him ranting. "You don't exactly stay out of our business, you know. Just how many wars have you been in, old man?"

"More than I can count, and not all of them were fought against you. My age and my experience should terrify you."

"And yet a newb like me handed your ass to you. Oh the horror!"

They were stepping closer to each other as the shouting continued, they're arms and facial expressions growing more animated. "Thank you for the reminder! It's your fault I'm still hiding under beds!"

"And it's your fault I'm even a Guardian. I wasn't chosen until you showed your face again!"

"I'm the reason you have believers! And what have you given me, Jack Frost? A headache and a new sense of terror!"

"Everything! I have given you everything!"

"And what exactly is everything?!"

"My trust, my faith, I've given you myself for Manny's sake! I have given you my love, you've seen my pain and you know my fears better than I do, and you can't even give me an answer!" There was a pause as they realized what Jack just admitted to Pitch. Jack breathed heavily, his heart pounding from the argument. Pitch just stared, his eyes wide. If Jack wasn't so ready to cry from his exacerbation with Pitch, he would laugh at how the tables had turned on them. Jack continued speaking before he lost his thought. "I almost lost everything for you, including my Guardianship. What's more, neither of us are alone anymore? Why do you keep acting like you are?"

Pitch was silent. This time, his silence didn't bother Jack as much. His anger drained, leaving him with a heightened sense of sadness. Pitch was looking right at him, but he almost felt like his Boogeyman could walk right through him if he wanted to. He felt invisible again.

Pitch gasped like he'd been holding his breath, his eyes losing focus for a moment. He looked like the one who'd been hit with a hammer, not Jack. When he finally refocused on Jack, Jack was stunned to see just how much sorrow had returned to his gaze. "Because it's all I've ever known."

Jack gave a half-hearted snort. "At least you remember a life before this."

Pitch's eyes fluttered shut. When they opened again, he was staring at the ground. "Just barely. Enough to regret."

Jack's heart stopped. "Pitch, I—."

"No. Stop. It's my turn to stop you. I don't want your pity. I don't want your false reassurance. I don't want your misguided promises. One day, you will leave. You're all the same!"

Jack felt the tears forming in his eyes as Pitch's words sank in. He wanted to fight. Manny knew, he wanted to fight. But he couldn't even summon the energy to clench his fists let alone argue back. He just stared at Pitch, whose face remained stern, almost unfeeling. Almost. He could see the weight of the words Pitch had just spoken bearing down on the Nightmare King's shoulders. Jack asked, "Then why didn't you just let me die?" At least Pitch's eyes twitched, as if the thought just might give him pause.

Jack Frost and Pitch Black stood toe to toe, eyes locked, arms limp, completely solid. Neither moved. Neither thought they could. Jack waited. He waited for Pitch to speak, say something, break the silence. He didn't know what to expect, but he certainly didn't expect what passed through Pitch's lips. The words were flat and cold. "Why didn't I?"

He couldn't remember ever feeling so devastated. Jack felt like he was breaking from the inside out. And in that devastation, he found his rage once more. No Rin this time. This rage was completely Jack.

Jack grit his teeth as indistinguishable noises escaped him. He charged Pitch, wrestling him to the ground. Thirsting for physical violence, he was satisfied to feel Pitch fighting back beneath him. He prepared to choke Pitch, but the bigger man flipped him onto his back and held him down by his hair. He could've easily pinned Jack by the wrists. That would've forced the boy into a submissive state faster than anything else Pitch could've done, but he avoided Jack's wrists still. The consideration just made Jack's thirst rise. He shouted angrily, jabbing Pitch in the side where his injuries had been only a little while ago. Pitch gasped and released Jack's hair. Jack saw his window of opportunity and took it, pulling his legs from under Pitch's and placing his feet on the Boogeyman's chest. Using all the strength he had, he kicked Pitch off of him. The Nightmare King landed a few feet in front of him.

Both got to their feet swiftly. From the shadows, Pitch pulled his scythe. Jack's fury mounted as he charged the Boogeyman anyway. Suddenly, Jack felt his limbs start to weigh him down. The more he struggled, the heavier he got. Eventually, his limbs were so heavy that he was on all fours on the ground, still fighting to move forward. When he remembered Pitch's ability to control his body through Rin, he wanted to scream. Pitch was thorough though. He kept Jack silent, on the ground, unable to move or retaliate. He could still see, though. He watched as Pitch raised his scythe and was prepared to feel its bite. He even dared Pitch to do it with his eyes.

For a man who supposedly cared deeply for Jack, Pitch looked ready to kill him. Jack was ready for it. He understood. Honestly, he would kill him too. He gave Pitch everything, injuries and pain included. Pitch should hate him more than he should trust or love him. Jack would understand if Pitch sank the blade of his scythe into Jack's back. So why was Pitch lowering his weapon? Why was it dissolving in his hands? Why was he staring down at Jack like he'd just broken something fragile?

"What are we doing?" he asked. The weight didn't subside, so Jack couldn't answer. He just continued looking up at Pitch. "What have I done?" Then Pitch was on his knees in front of him, and Jack still couldn't move or speak. He wanted to, and he wanted to be angry again. Unfortunately, his rage was subsiding and being replaced with aching. Pitch's facial expression didn't help the situation. Something about it made Jack forget that they'd just tried to throttle each other. Pitch stared into Jack's eyes, and Jack's rage melted completely. Pitch looked like he was in absolute agony. "You look so guilty. Every time I look at you, you look so guilt-ridden. But who's really at fault in this?" Pitch was starting to sound frustrated again when the weight suddenly lifted. Jack gasped, but it wasn't long before Pitch grabbed one of his arms. He expected to be pinned. He expected to be attacked, but instead the Nightmare King just yanked the sleeve up to reveal Rin's mark. Pitch shouted, "How can you trust me when I did this to you?"

Jack didn't have a definitive answer for Pitch. They just stared at one another. The raindrops felt heavier than before, as if each sphere of water felt just as ignored as Jack had at the start of this argument. Jack suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe, and for once it wasn't because Pitch was gripping his wrist. He could've told Pitch many things. He could've told him to leave him alone, as he'd done at Antarctica. He could've asked him how it felt not to have an answer, just as he'd done the very day they'd gotten together. He could've reassured him that it wasn't his fault, as he'd wanted to do so many times while recovering from the attack that had left him with Rin. But he said none of those things. Instead, he said, "You've had plenty of chances to hurt me. Instead, you end up helping or even saving me. You don't think that's reason enough to trust someone?"

Pitch said nothing. They just maintained the eye contact, both expressionless. Neither drew in a single breath. They were completely and utterly still in the rain, which only seemed to grow louder as the silence dragged on. Thunder clapped in the distance. Not a single sound escaped them or the forest as time felt like it had stilled. Pitch's black and Jack's blue seemed washed out in the dark of the storm. The only color other than green they seemed to acknowledge was the blue and yellow of their eyes, still locked on each other. Jack didn't even notice Pitch's grip loosen on his arm at first. Pitch didn't seem to notice Jack turning his wrist in the Boogeyman's palm so that he held his hand. At least, Jack thought Pitch didn't notice until long gray fingers tightened around his pale ones.

Suddenly Jack was being pressed into the ground with Pitch covering every inch of him, smothering Jack's lips with his own and flooding his cold flesh with warmth. Jack moaned into Pitch's mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Pitch did, and the last of Jack's resolve liquefied with the rest of him. He wrapped his arms around Pitch's neck, holding him closer as Pitch ran a hand under the hem of Jack's hoodie. Pitch pulled back slightly, leaving Jack's lips feeling bruised and hot. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You're right."

"Too bad no one but me heard you say that aloud," Jack whispered back. And suddenly, Pitch was smiling against his lips. A smile. That was the first smile Jack had seen in a while. It made him smile too before he pressed his lips to his Boogeyman's, urging him to continue.

And Pitch did. Hungrily. The adrenaline from the fight pumped through Jack, the aching shifting from side to side in his chest as Pitch slid Jack's hoodie up his torso ever so slowly. Pitch's lips left Jack's briefly, the hoodie coming off completely. Jack gasped as Pitch's lips then assaulted his neck, sending a rush through Jack that reminded him of how much he loved to feel Pitch's teeth in his skin. The aching in his chest got worse.

Pitch's arms wrapped around Jack's torso and pulled him off the ground and onto Pitch's lap. The heat of Pitch's skin was smothering him, but at the same time Jack longed to get closer. The ache in his chest only grew with that need. Tears pricked his eyes as their lips met again. Pitch's arms tightened around Jack's waist, and somehow the ache got worse. Pitch pulled away briefly, and Jack sucked in a breath of air. Before he knew what he was saying, he said, "Please don't ignore me."

One of Pitch's hands slid up the back of Jack's neck and into his hair, fingers threading their way through the white strands. Pitch whispered against the winter spirit's lips, "You're not invisible, Jack." He kissed him before adding, "Not to me." Jack's chest went from aching to exploding with liberation as he choked on his tears, which frosted on his cheeks. Their grip on each other tightened as their lips locked again.

It wasn't long before Jack found himself back on the ground, Pitch having used the darkness to teleport them back under their leaf and out of the rain. Jack gasped as he lost track of Pitch's movement in the dark of the storm, unable to count the seconds it took for his Boogeyman to slip Jack's pants off and slide into him. The pressure of Pitch's penetration forced him to bite his fist, stifling his moans in case anyone might hear them. He was surprised to feel Pitch's influence pulling his hand from between his teeth, the weight of his power over him making him moan even more. Pitch buried his face in Jack's hair right beneath his ear as their embraces grew tight yet again. Pitch's hot breath and the thrust of his hips almost sent Jack over the edge right then and there. "Pitch—."

"Your teeth, Jack. Use them." Jack was surprised to hear Pitch so desperate for the very things that had killed earlier that day. He obliged, sliding Pitch's robe aside and sinking his teeth into the Nightmare King's shoulder. Pitch growled, retaliating with a bite of his own. Jack's eyes squeezed shut and his teeth clenched around Pitch's flesh. This muffled their cries as Pitch dragged his talons down Jack's shoulder blades and thrust harder, Jack digging his nails into Pitch's skin. He felt blood seeping from the bite on his neck when Pitch pulled away, but the pain was soothed by Pitch's tongue.

When they climaxed, Pitch held Jack and kissed him. The kisses softened over time, but their hold on each other remained tight. When their lips were too swollen to continue, Pitch rested his forehead against Jack's and they gasped for air. Jack became aware of the long scratches Pitch had given him, sensitive to the ground biting into his bare back. Pitch muttered something unintelligible, making Jack breathe out, "What?"

"I do trust you. And that horrifies me," Pitch admitted.

Jack tightened his arms around him, hoping that it reassured him. It seemed to, because Pitch collapsed on top of him and nuzzled his cheek, the tension in his muscles completely gone. Jack sighed, thankful that the ache in his chest had lifted and the adrenaline was spent. Had the two sensations remained, he might have argued. For now, he was too overwhelmed by the thought of the Nightmare King being afraid to trust him.

And a little surprised at himself for having indirectly told Pitch that he loved him in the midst of their arguing.

They were clothed, soaking wet, and still holding one another when Pitch said, "I overreacted."

"To what?" Jack asked.

"When the Man in the Moon chose Seraphina for Guardianship. I overreacted." Pitch took a deep breath, realizing that this would be the first time he spoke of this to someone else. It didn't feel as terrifying as he thought it would be. Then again, this was Jack. His Jack. His head swam with the reassurance of his Jack's presence, and his fear almost seemed childish as he spoke again. "The Guardians would've killed me in the Great War several times had she not saved me. Yet she considered herself a neutral party. She only stepped in when she thought it absolutely necessary." He thought for a moment. "I would've succeeded in world domination long before you were created if not for her. Even those arguments hadn't been as dreadful as the fight that ensued when the Man in the Moon called her to join his precious protectors." Pitch closed his eyes, unsure if he could go into detail about that fight. Jack's hand tightened on his, and that seemed to calm him enough for him to continue. "We said many things. Cruel things. The cruelest was when I told her that if she chose them over me . . . then she may as well be dead to me." He sighed, fighting the words that had sparked and fueled his own nightmares. "There are few things I regret more than saying those words to her." He sighed again, still struggling against the tightening sensation in his chest. "After that, she left. Told us not to follow her. I did anyway, but only to figure out where she went. Only to ensure that no one else would ever find her." He rubbed his forehead. "I always thought she'd return if we gave her some time. But she never did. The things I said . . . no child could forgive their father for that."

"You'd be surprised. Maybe she just wanted you to put forth the effort in patching things up."

"I should've thought about that. She always knew when I was following her before. I don't see how I could have slipped under her radar that day, especially since she was that upset." Pitch shook his head. "Then again, she gets her insurmountable pride from me. Had I gone to her, we would have wound up fighting again."

They were quiet for a few moments. Then Jack asked, "This only made you hate the Guardians more?"

"Of course. As you said, they didn't just take my believers. They took my family." His brow furrowed as he grew furious at the very thought of his enemies taking everything he had. "Where do they draw the line? Where?"

"If my calculations are correct, you should've been more pissed with the Man in the Moon than with your daughter." Pitch pinned Jack with a gimlet stare. Then Jack realized something. "Manny sure can be an antagonist, can't he?"

"You don't say."

"He's probably gonna get back at me for saying that."

"Or he'll ignore you."

"Yeah, that's his motif." Jack and Pitch shared a chuckle. Then Jack said, "If I were human, I'd say I was going to hell."

"I'd have to agree with you there."

Pitch held Jack closer, the rain having eased up just enough. It was no longer thundering, but the rain persisted. His daughter's words suddenly rang in his ears: don't make the same mistake twice. He was certain that he'd almost lost Jack earlier. The pain of that loss would've been unbearable. His chest ached at the very thought. Jack had called him out, as Seraphina had done with him on a number of occasions, and he'd responded not so favorably. There was a moment where Pitch almost forgot everything they'd been through together. All he'd seen was the Guardian that had rebuffed him in Antarctica. He shuddered to think how ready he was to kill Jack, and held the boy closer at the thought of being left alone again. Jack had been right about almost everything, though. Pitch still acted like he was alone even when Jack had been standing right in front of him, solid and unwavering. He buried his face in Jack's hair, inhaling the boy's scent and reassuring himself that he didn't have to survive in a world without him. His chest felt full with . . . something at the thought of Jack's words. He'd given Pitch his love. Whether the emotion he felt was relief, glee, or nervousness, he didn't know. Maybe it was all three. Maybe it was none. All he knew was that he longed to hear those words again. For now, he was grateful that everything had worked out between Jack and him.

He just wished he'd been able to work things out with Seraphina.

"Thank you," Jack said. "For telling me. Thank you."

Pitch smiled against his hair. "I should've told you sooner."

"I do have one more question though."

Pitch could feel his muscles tighten instinctually, but forced himself to relax. He trusted Jack. He really did. He just found it hard to trump centuries of skepticism. "Go on."

"What's Sera's connection to Pillan? It doesn't seem like she just imprisoned him. There's history there."

Pitch stared at his Jack. He almost smiled at the boy's observance. He always knew too much. Pitch could always rely on Jack to know too much. "She raised him. He was given to her by the Man in the Moon, and then she was told to destroy him because . . . there was darkness in him. Even when he was a hatchling, everyone knew he would bring destruction." Pitch's chest tightened further. "It was the first and only time she ever listened to the Man in the Moon without question. And that beast still respected her enough to give her a warning before sending its spirits after her."

"Let me guess: you feel like you should've known she wouldn't subject herself to Manny's will again after that."

Pitch narrowed his eyes on Jack. "How do you figure these things out? It's ridiculous."

"You're easy to read to those who know you."

"Am I now?"

"Yes, you are. Right now, you're about to tell me to—."

"Shut up," they said in unison. They smiled again at each other.

"This is where you tell me I know too much and you have to keep me around," Jack added.

"It seems I don't need to. You've already figured it out for yourself."

Jack leaned in to kiss him at that, and Pitch felt himself relax against his young Guardian.

The next morning, Sera hardly noticed the condition of the forest after her storm, how green it was and how rejuvenated she felt with it. All she saw were the marks on both Jack's and Pitch's necks. Somehow, that was sign enough to her that he'd listened. That left her even more confused than before.

But in the midst of that confusion, she felt something akin to happiness. For once, she didn't shut it out.

Enter the Dragon

Free. He was free. He was awake and free. Dirt scratched against his sides, the sound of stone scraping against his scales muffled by the earth he fought to get off of him. He had been bound. Oh, he had been bound for so long that his limbs had cramped with each early movement. The bonds still tied his clawed hands and feet together, but he could feel the growing slack. He could feel everything. He had never felt anything so vividly. His muscles had never been so tense with excitement. His own breath had never felt so hot, so heavy with anticipation. He was going to see the sun. He was going to feel it on his face. He was going to open his mouth and breathe in fresh air for the first time in millennia.

Waking up had been a slow and lengthy process. He'd been tormented with dreams for so long that he hadn't realized the difference between reality and fantasy. At least the dreams had been somewhat pleasant. In fact, they'd been beautiful. But their beauty made waking even more horrendous. It made him furious. When he'd resolved to remain fully awake, he'd struggled against his bonds. The pain of them rubbing his arms and legs raw for centuries had been enough to render him motionless. One would think that his scales would have protected him from that pain, but the binds had worked their way between his scales and caused him such agony that each time he cried out he just got a mouthful of dirt. He'd had to train himself to resist the desire to keep still in order to work his way out. He'd built up quite the tolerance for pain.

Once the resistance had grown to be enough for him to tolerate the agony, he'd begun to move. He'd begun to work his way upward through the crust of the earth. Once he could move, his followers awakened and found the hole he'd been stuck in. They could hear him. Though he could not open his mouth to speak, they could hear him. They could hear every thought he manifested. So they'd assembled more followers by his orders, creatures from the Far East. The man-beasts were useful, simple cannon fodder. At his behest, the man-beasts had taken up the task of finding the traitorous moon's followers and destroying them first. Two had done so most eagerly. Two had injured the youngest of the moon's followers without giving so much as a thought to morality. Picking off each of the moon's followers one by one had seemed oh so simple. It seemed so simple, he could've roared and thrashed and inadvertently dug himself a deeper grave upon realizing that the two man-beasts had foolishly, oh so foolishly, brought down the most dangerous member of the moon's league.

And he wasn't dangerous because of his powers. No, the winter spirit the man-beasts had laid low was dangerous because of his connection to an even darker force.

But he had not thrashed and thrown off his progress upward. He remained still, digging patiently and slowly. He told his armies to wait. He told the Huecuvus to wait for him to loose his binds to a certain point. He told them to wait until he was merely a few feet from the surface. When he was, he would tell them to act. This gave him time to think, to wonder how many enemies he was willing to make on his way up. Was he willing to do battle with the personification of fear and the moon's followers alike?

He'd decided he didn't care. Once he had dug his way into position, he sent them to capture the Nightmare King who had tortured the two man-beasts to death. He didn't particularly care for the individual members of his army, but he did believe in retaliation. He worshipped revenge. The Nightmare King would understand that. But he should've known that challenging the Nightmare King would've led to her involvement.

The very thought of Gaia put all other thoughts to rest. He didn't stop moving, but he stopped thinking. He stopped thinking of revenge long enough to remember his mother, to remember how sad she'd been to cage him. He thought he could forgive her and had given her the opportunity to run. Still, she chose weakling humans and the moon over him. She even promised his death. The thought should infuriate him. It did. But it would be a good long while before he thirsted for Gaia's blood. He mourned for his mother. He mourned for her long enough that he jumped when he realized his talons had breached the surface. Reaching through the earth, reaching upwards from his prison, he started to dig his way out. Water came pouring through the packed soil as he whittled through earth, the pressure of the water bearing down on top of him, slowing his progress.

But he was larger than the body of water that was his last barrier between him and the rest of the world. When he fought his way through that last barrier and climbed through to the water's surface, he was blinded by the light. Light. How long had it been since he'd felt pure sunlight on his scales? He stood in the deep pool, blind but staring up anyway. He was sore, so sore, but he was awake and free. He was so free. The bonds that had held him for millennia fell from his body and his muscles loosed for the first time. Dirt and blood washed off of him and he breathed. He breathed, oh he breathed. When his eyes could finally stand it, he opened them and glanced up at the sky from the deep cavern he'd been buried in. He stretched. He stretched every limb and rattled every scale. He spread his wings and let them feel the sunlight. The sunlight was so magnificent, so amazing. Each movement was unhindered, exquisite.

And he breathed.

Before he could stop himself, he let out the first roar the world had heard from him since the moon ordered Gaia to imprison him.

Sera felt the break before she heard his voice. Once she felt it, she ran. She didn't even check to see if the others were following her. They were close enough to their destination that she could let them figure out which direction they needed to take. Once she heard him, though, she stumbled and fell face first into the dirt. She scrambled to get upright, taking more time than she cared to getting on her feet. When she thought she would never get up in time, she felt Bunny's paws under her arms, lifting her up. Once up, they continued running.

Her chest heaved when she came to a grinding halt before a giant cavern. Staring down the massive orifice, decorated with rock and plants, she saw something splashing in the clear pool of water at its base. At that moment, the breath caught in her throat and her heart stopped at the sight of him.

And he saw her.

Time didn't freeze. In fact, the moment felt fleeting. But even as he stared up at her and bellowed, "Hello Gaia," almost joyously, she could not move an inch. She watched him feel his way along the rocky and dirty walls, feeling for notches and footholds. The Guardians and Pitch came to stand beside her as he climbed up. It would've taken someone their size much longer than the minute it took him to reach their level.

When the two of them were face to face for the first time in she didn't know how long, she realized just the sheer size of him. His head was the length of her body. He could swallow each of them if he so desired. His neck was the length of nine horses, and she couldn't even begin to describe the size of his body or his wingspan. Terror should've sent her running, fear should've split her open, but all she could do was stare and stand completely still. All seemed silent, the birds and creatures of the rainforest included, until she choked out, "Nidhogg."

"I did always prefer my Greek name, but that is moot." His voice was deep and cheerful. It didn't seem cracked or damaged at all from having been encased in earth for so long. She was the one who sounded damaged. "My, it seems you are much smaller than I remembered. I suppose I've grown despite the mountain of earth you set on my back."

"Nidhogg, please—."

"Don't beg, Mother, it isn't like you." He looked her up and down, ignoring the others standing stunned and horrified around her. "We have changed since last we met. You don't look at all like the woman who raised me from birth. Has the moon done this to you?"

"You know why I'm here, Nidhogg," she spat, feeling her resolve but lacking conviction. "You know I can't let you—."

"Let me? Dearest Gaia, you don't need to 'let' me do anything," he scoffed. "You couldn't control me even if you wanted to." Sera gasped as his giant, clawed hand swatted her to the side. She no longer stood between him and the Guardians plus Pitch. She tried to get up, but saw flames flickering in his mouth before any of them could act. "Bid farewell to the moon's beloved followers."

His mouth went agape as the flames surged from his throat. The group took several steps back as they saw their doom in Nidhogg's fire, but one remained still. Jack Frost raised his staff and stared into Nidhogg's mouth. As the flames burst forth through the dragon's teeth, Jack countered the blast with a stream of ice. He stood, bracing himself against the impact of the outburst, and continued to hold off Nidhogg's attempts to burn him and his comrades until the dragon realized this tactic was futile and closed his mouth. When he gazed down at Jack, the boy was dumb enough to stare defiantly back at the dragon.

Sera would have to remember to call him an idiot later.

Jack prepared to attack again, the others joining him this time as she got to her feet. When Nidhogg saw this, he flapped his massive wings and the force sent them careening backwards into the forest. He continued flapping, rendering them unable to move as he tested out his first flight. He hovered up, gracefully taking to the skies as if it had only been yesterday that he'd learned his wings. The canopy bowed under the pressure of his wings before he took off, leaving them all there to stare after him. He roared as he flew, and suddenly she could hear the plague spirits cackling and the monkey men screeching.

It hit them all then: the end bringer was loose.

"Jack!" Tooth screamed as the youngest Guardian stood up and leapt onto the wind, following the dragon. She, in turn, followed him.

"Everyone able to fly must go after him," North reasoned as they heard Pillan's army crashing through the rainforest towards them. "Bunny and I will stay here and handle the others."

"We've got the gumbies! Go!" Bunny shouted at them.

Sandy took off on a cloud of dreamsand as Pitch snapped his fingers. From the shadows came the familiar whinny of one of his Nightmares. When it appeared, he mounted it. He was about ready to kick and proceed after the others when he saw Sera standing rigid, her eyes wide. "Seraphina—."

"I can't."

"Since when?" Bunny asked. This came as news to everyone.

"I haven't flown since . . . since . . . I can't!" North, Bunny, and Pitch all stared dumbly at her as they realized what she was saying. Their stares only made her more frustrated. "Quit—!"

"Stop with the bravado and take one of my Nightmares," Pitch barked as he snapped his fingers, summoning another. She got ready to shake her head and send a biting remark at him, but he cut her off with, "You must. Don't be afraid, Sera."

Whether it was Pitch using the words he only reserved for those he truly cared for or his using Mother Nature's preferred name that made her stop and listen, Bunny would never know. Whichever it was, it seemed to have worked as she leapt onto the second Nightmare's back and they chased after Pillan. Once alone, Bunny and North gazed at each other. They heard the monkey men and the plague spirits closing in on them. Bunny knew they were going to need some additional help with this one. "How did I used to say it, mate? Desperate times?" Bunny asked North.

North stared at him briefly, pure joy crossing his face as his eyes lit up. Sticking one sword in the ground, he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a smallish drawstring bag. "Call for desperate measures, my friend."

North tossed the bag to Bunny, who opened it and took a deep breath before guzzling its chocolate contents. He could feel the effects immediately as his body began to shift and grow larger, his paws becoming clawed hands and feet and his teeth becoming sharp enough to tear through anything. When he'd been transformed into a beast three times his normal size, he let out a war cry he had not used in hundreds of years.

The Pooka war cry sent a visible shiver through Pitch as they chased after Jack and the dragon. Sandy and Tooth had not yet caught up with either, and Sera was still struggling with the Nightmare Pitch had given her.

As they advanced on their target, they could see a black and blue individual circling the dark green dragon's face. Whenever Pillan unleashed a jet of fire, it was countered by Jack's frost. The two twisted in the air, and it almost looked like they were dancing. As they neared, they could just barely pick up on the dragon scoffing, "You're that infant that got my men killed!" They didn't hear Jack's response, but it must've been enough to anger the beast. He snapped his jaws, almost catching Jack by the ankle.

Sandy led the troupe up past the warring dragon and winter spirit, knowing their greatest chances of surprising Pillan lay in attacking him from above. Once they picked up enough speed that they were keeping pace with the dragon and the youngest Guardian, Sera signaled to Pitch. He nodded, and they both dismounted the Nightmares and jumped onto Pillan's back. Each grabbed one of the spikes that lined the dragon's spine to keep from slipping off his sleek scales. Pillan roared as he realized he was being attacked by more than just the 'infant' now.

Sandy readied a ball of dreamsand as Jack sent ice bolts into each of Pillan's eyes, temporarily blinding the dragon. Pillan roared as Sandy aimed and through the ball at the beast's face. Sandy was taken aback when his sand didn't affect Pillan in the slightest. Wrinkling his nose, he readied his whips and began fending off the onslaught of plague spirits with Tooth.

Sera pulled the black dagger from its sheath on her leg and went to hand it to Pitch over Pillan's spikes. He stared at it briefly, recognizing it, then took it. Her gaze darted from the blade to the massive wing beside him. The wing was large enough that it could wrap around the Guardians, Sera, and Pitch thrice and there would still be excess, but it was weak compared to the dragon's scaled body. Pitch nodded, acknowledging what she wanted him to do, then slashed at the part of the wing that connected to the dragon's body. Pillan roared again, each cry becoming more earsplitting. Then he tucked his wings and rolled in the air, forcing Pitch and Sera to lace their limbs between the dragon's spikes in order to hold on. When the beast's wings extended once more and he was flying straight again, Pitch handed the blade back to Sera and she slashed at the opposite wing. Pillan roared again, but the wounds didn't faze him. He continued flying as if he'd never been injured. Pitch and Sera exchanged glances, both unsure of what else to do to slow him down as she sheathed the knife again.

Meanwhile, Tooth and Sandy cut through the plague spirits without too much trouble. Jack continued deterring the dragon's flames, resealing the ice on Pillan's eyes each time the layer thinned. It wasn't until the dragon took a blind swing at Jack did the boy get knocked off balance and drop his staff. Without his crook, he started careening down towards the rainforest far below. Sera motioned for Pitch to follow him, the Nightmare King not even hesitating as he summoned his Nightmare and dove after the winter spirit. As a last ditch effort to force Pillan to the ground, Sera straddled the dragon's back and pulled her hammer from its resting place over her shoulder. She inhaled to steady herself, balancing on the balls of her feet as she calculated the amount of time it took for the dragon to flap his wings. She eyed the joint at the top of the wing, counting the seconds and determining just how far she had to jump. She made her move when the right wing was on an upward swing, jumping and raising the hammer above her head. When she finished counting, she used every last bit of her strength and brought the hammer down directly on the joint. Her whole body shook from the impact of her hammer, and she grit her teeth and hissed at the sound of the bones separating. One last earsplitting, long roar made her head ring just before Pillan tucked his right wing under him and he began his descent towards the earth.

Sera kicked off his back and began her own descent. Before she had time to really panic, the Nightmare she'd ridden galloped through the skies and caught her. She landed on it backwards, and had to regain her balance long enough to right herself on its back. She looked around for the others, catching a glimpse of Pitch and Jack flying side by side towards Tooth and Sandy. The elder Guardians were still battling the plague spirits. Plague spirits and Guardians alike split apart as the dragon fell between them, sending flames in each direction as he spun through the air. Some flames caught the plague spirits. Sandy, Jack, and Sera dodged the fire easily, but Tooth and Pitch weren't fast enough. One of Tooth's wings caught flame and Pitch's Nightmare disintegrated.

"Sandy, catch Tooth!" Jack said over the wind. Sandy didn't hesitate, both diving for their targets. Sera dove after Jack, knowing his slight form couldn't possibly withstand Pitch's weight.

Despite his gargantuan frame, she lost sight of the dragon as his scales blended in with the rainforest. Her whole body was shaking from the ordeal, her battered nerves catching the attention of the Nightmare she was riding. She kicked him onward anyway, wiping sweat and tears from her eyes.

Spring Awakening

The battle with the monkey men was over quickly, and again the cowards retreated. North was still swinging when he felt the ground shake beneath him. He liked to imagine that was a dead dragon causing all that raucous, but he didn't get his hopes up.

Speaking of which, he'd lost track of where the Guardian of Hope had chased the red beasts off to. A moment of panic surged through him as he realized just how far apart he was from his allies. He kept his swords up, glancing about for anything familiar or suspicious. When he saw nothing, he looked up at the clear sky and sighed. Wiping his brow, he whispered to himself, "Am too old for this."

"North!" came a familiar cry of panic. Lifting his swords once more, he charged into the woods and spun about, searching for Bunny. "North!" the rabbit cried again. North heard him, but didn't see him anywhere. "Look up, you bloody Cossack!" North looked up, and as soon as he saw what his friend had gotten himself into he laughed aloud. "It's not funny!"

"Not funny? You're all tangled up in a tree! How is not funny?" North bellowed through bouts of laughter. The look of embarrassment and disgust on Bunny's face made his situation all the more hilarious. North inhaled deeply, trying to quell his hysteria before he responded, "At least you are back to normal size."

"See, this is exactly why I don't eat chocolate. Not only are the effects completely spontaneous, but I usually wind up in places that I wouldn't normally dream of ending up in."

"Oh, so you don't normally end up in trees?"

"No, you bugger!"

"Not unless there is pretty girl in there." The look Bunny gave him only made him start laughing again. "Oh don't look so surprised, you rabbit."

"How long?"

North placed his hands on his hips. "You think I don't recognize wonder when I see it? You've been after her for as long as I can remember."

"Have not."

"Have, too."

"Have not!"

"Better act fast, or you'll miss your chance again."

"Do you want me to die?!"

"On contrary, I'm telling you to live a little."

Bunny and North stared at each other for a long while, Bunny glaring and North smiling up at him. At long last, Bunny rolled his eyes and sighed. His ears perked up a little as he asked, "Is this how humans normally encourage each other to do stupid things?"

"I'm sure some variant of eggnog is usually involved."

"And one isn't stuck in a tree?"

"That can happen at times, but you're right. It's not typical."

Bunny's ears flattened against his head. He exhaled heavily once more. "Remember when the only thing we argued about was the importance of Easter and Christmas?"

North sighed at the thought. "Good times."

"Simpler times."

"Aye. Simpler times."

"Ow!"

"Sorry," Jack whispered. He moved between Pitch and Tooth, both burned pretty badly. Tooth's wing seemed almost shriveled. "How will this affect your flying?"

"It'll heal slowly." She looked solemn. "Very slowly."

"Will some cold help it? It usually helps him," Jack said, gesturing to Pitch. Pitch was asleep in the darkest part of the area where they'd landed, dreamsand swirling above his head. It was the only way Jack could force him to rest. Rest and a layer of ice over the burn marks on his legs were the only things that would help him heal.

"You can try it," Tooth said. Jack hurt for her. He couldn't imagine not being able to fly, and that was the only way she seemed to travel. It was rare to see her feet touch the ground. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her land willingly.

He readied his ice, but Sera stopped him. "This'll help," she said, holding up a green paste that Jack thought looked similar to the crushed herb she'd used to soothe the injury she'd given him.

As Sera spread the goo over Tooth's wing, Jack asked, "How'd you get it to work so fast?"

"The herb? I have my own garden. Hidden, of course." She patted the pouches on her belt with one hand before saying, "Figure you can never be too careful."

"So you make up your own remedies?"

"No. I enhance the effects your average herb has on its user. It took a long time to get them to work this fast. Lots of talking to plants and lots of time spent caring for them. It wasn't like I didn't have enough time on my hands, though. You know?" She finished up applying the salve to Tooth's wing, then watched as Jack covered her handiwork with a layer of frost. Tooth breathed a sigh of relief as Sandy held her hands comfortingly. "My magic is slow working," Sera continued, "but incredibly effective."

"Would you say you could fix anything?" Jack asked.

"If I have enough time." Sera raised an eyebrow. Jack squinted as he realized for the first time that, unlike her father, she actually did have eyebrows. "What do you have in mind?"

He took a deep breath, realizing that what he was about to ask might be damn near impossible to pull off. He asked anyway. "Rin. You've barely met him, but . . .," Jack stopped and looked at Pitch. He thought hard before looking back at Sera and continuing, "Things would be easier if I didn't have a shadow ricocheting through me."

"Your Fearling half is bothersome? And he can't fix that?" she gestured to Pitch.

"Not without hurting me, he thinks."

Sera glanced up, thinking. "You want him completely gone?"

Jack sighed. "He's helped us a lot. I don't want him dead, but I can't share my body with him forever. Pitch'll be the first to tell you all the things he's done to torment us."

"Just for the sake of curiosity, can I get an example?"

"He stole one of Pitch's torture tools and threatened to remove my eye."

"Yeah, he's gotta go." She put her hands together, thinking a little more. "Just exorcising him would take some time. Keeping him sentient long enough to find him a new body is another matter entirely."

"So you can do it?" Jack grew hopeful at the prospect.

"Give me some time to think it over. In fact, don't expect a miracle till after the Nidhogg business is over with."

Jack nodded eagerly. "Absolutely! It's just . . . thank you!" Before he knew what he was doing, he threw his arms around Sera. She stiffened at the touch, and the reality of Jack's actions hit home. He moved back hastily, releasing her. "Sorry." The look of utter surprise on her face would've been comical had this not been the same woman who hammered his guts only a day ago. Or was it a few days ago? How had he lost track of time?

She shook her head, reorienting her senses before saying, "It's cool." Her eyes widened at her own sentence. "Really cool. Damn, you're that temperature all the time?" He shrugged, but before he could answer, she waved her own question aside. "Just . . . a little warning next time?"

"Yes! Warning! Warnings are important," he agreed.

She actually cracked a smile at that. "In the meantime, I better go find that last two Guardians."

Jack moved to sit beside Pitch. "Yeah, can't imagine what they're doing." As soon as Jack was settled beside his Boogeyman, she stood. There was a moment of quiet before Jack let out a surprised gasp, long black and gray arms wrapping around his waist as Pitch practically curled around him. Both of Sera's eyebrows raised as Jack's cheeks flushed. "This . . .," he struggled to continue the thought, "is normal."

"That's normal?" He nodded curtly, his lips tightening in a thin line as he realized just how awkward this must look to individuals not used to the relationship that was Pitch's and Jack's. "You really are his pillow."

"Afraid so. He'll be upset that he wasn't awake to hear me scream."

Sera shook her head at that. "I'm walking away now."

"Sounds good." With that, she turned and made her way through the rainforest in search of North and Bunny. Jack stared down at the sleeping Nightmare King wrapped almost completely around him. "I'm gonna kill you when you wake up."

When Sera found North and Bunny, the rabbit was in the exact same spot he had been stuck in when he'd called North over.

North threw his arms up in the air excitedly. "Sera! Just the girl we were talking about and waiting for!" Bunny was going to kill North for that. North placed his hands back on his hips and winked at her. "Dragon is taken care of, right?"

"For now. He's grounded, but most likely not dead." She looked up at Bunny. "Do I even want to know?"

"Chocolate was involved."

"I bet you never climbed a tree so fast in your entire existence." She looked to North. "Tooth and Pitch were injured in the battle, but I think they'll be alright. Follow the trail I left you and you'll find them."

"And you've got the Bunny?"

"Unfortunately for him, yes. I've got him," she said. North looked up at Bunny for a moment, also winking. Then he followed the path Sera had left for him, leaving Mother Nature and the Easter Bunny alone.

They stared at each other for a moment, their faces expressionless. Well, Bunny tried to seem expressionless. He probably looked pissed, but what did anyone expect? He preferred being on the ground (or under it, for that matter), and here he was back up in a tree. She moved first, reaching for her bow. "You gonna put me out of my misery?"

"Somehow, I don't think it'll be this easy to get rid of you," she uttered with a smile. At least she was smiling. That was a little comforting. He just might live through this.

After she'd strung up her bow, she pulled an arrow and notched it. As she took aim, he felt a shudder go through him at how close the arrow's path would cut past his head. "Aw crikee," he said nervously.

"Just relax and trust me. You only have a little ways to fall."

"Fall—!" Bunny was cut off by her loosing the arrow, the barbed instrument skirting his ears and slicing through the vines that held him up. Once those vines were cut, he went tumbling down through the branches to the forest floor. He landed flat on his stomach with a loud thud, and was left groaning from the impact.

"Alright, so I lied. Your landing made your fall a little less pleasant," she said, unstringing her bow and placing it back in her quiver.

"Ugh," he grumbled. "You expected that to be pleasant?"

"I expected you to land on your feet!"

"I'm not a cat!"

"So I've noticed!" she retorted, stepping over to him. She wrapped her arms around and under one of his, trying to help him up. It wasn't until he tried to move that he felt an awful sensation run up the length of his back and he cried out. She held him still, but stopped pulling as she looked to find the source of his outburst. "How on earth did you not notice a gash that size sooner?"

"If it's on my back, it's not like I can turn around and look at it!"

"But couldn't you feel it?"

"I tend to lose my senses after a round of chocolate, in case you haven't noticed already."

"Oh, I've noticed! Can you sit up?" She unhooked her arms from his and Bunny let out another irritated groan before shoving himself upright. He hissed at the pain that shot down his back. She placed a hand on his shoulder, helping him stay up as she looked at the gash. "This is deep. You really didn't feel this?"

"I may recall a scratch during a fight with some monkey men, but nothing like what this feels like."

"Yeah, you've got a serious problem. Steady yourself. I'm going to try to treat it."

"With what?!"

"A plant. Don't get your panties in a twist." He heard her searching through her pouches in search of an herb that would best help.

"I don't wear panties . . .," he snarled, his ears flattening against his head again, squinting into the forest.

"You don't wear anything anymore," she said with a snicker. Then her laughter grew louder as she started to crush her herb of choice using her mortar and pestle.

"What's so funny now?" he asked defensively. He gestured with his paws, but soon realized that any movement only made his back hurt more.

She stifled the giggling long enough to ask, "Remember your egg-shaped glasses?"

"Hey now! North is barred from speaking of my old wardrobe, and now you are, too!"

His protests made her giggling worse. "Why so sensitive, Bunny? I liked your green, egg-shaped glasses. Tell me you kept them."

"Haha, no!" He hissed when he felt her rubbing something into the gash that he had not been aware of until he'd returned to the ground.

They remained quiet as she continued applying her medicine. Judging by the amount of his back she had to cover with the herb, he was definitely surprised that he hadn't noticed the injury sooner. When she was finished and had put away her equipment, she came to stand in front of him. "I don't suppose you can get up and start walking?"

"Do I look like a masochist to you?"

For a moment, their faces were blank. Then they smiled and sniggered as she knelt down in front of him. "You'd have to be."

"I would, now?"

"As often as I attacked you? And still you stuck it out?" The laughing and smiling died off, and she started to look blank again. "I still can't believe how easy it is to talk to you. After all this time. Aren't we supposed to have a hard time with this sort of thing?"

"You'd think so, but we've never exactly been normal."

"What is normal, anyway?" She stopped, then squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh God."

"What?"

"Just . . . I haven't exactly gotten used to seeing . . . Pitch and Jack act like a couple."

He paused, surprised that she actually referred to Pitch by name instead of just calling him 'him' or something akin to 'him.' The thought made him smile. He said, "No one is used to it. What brought that up?"

"I left just as he wrapped himself around Jack's waist. Twice. Apparently that's normal."

"I . . . haven't had the 'pleasure' of seeing such a thing." In fact, Bunny had to shake his head to keep from envisioning such a feat.

"That right there was my exact reaction!" she said, gesturing to Bunny's facial expression. That made them laugh again.

A moment of silence passed over them as they elected to sit and wait for the medicine to really numb Bunny's pain. Bunny got ready to ask her something, but stopped himself. She probably didn't want to hear him ask her not to disappear again. Then again, maybe that was exactly what she needed to hear in order to get her to stay in touch with him. But he wasn't quite brave enough to ask yet. Instead, he said, "So. Wardrobes. What exactly happened to yours?"

She shrugged. "This feels a little more practical than that old dress. It got torn to shreds out here."

"And all the damn weapons? How'd you accumulate them and how do you lug them around all the time?"

"It takes me hours to focus enough to even get my magic ready to use. I needed something else to protect me on short notice. So I improvised."

"The knife didn't cut it?"

"It's sentimental. And I only use it when absolutely nothing else will work."

"Sentimental? Like my aster?" She reached self-consciously for the back of her neck at the question, habitually checking to make sure it was hidden. He wanted to smile, wanted to be happy that she'd kept it. Instead, he just felt sad. To hell with it, he thought. He asked, "Is there any way I can convince you not to leave when this is through?"

She sighed, staring down at her open palms. Her silence made him uneasy. When she looked back up, she said, "I've already promised Jack to help him with the Fearling. I honestly don't know what to do after that." She thought for a moment. "I wanted to remain emotionally unattached from all of you, but you all make it very hard to keep to that plan."

"Would it be so bad if you rejoined the world, instead of hiding in the woods?"

She pinned him with a gimlet stare. "Hiding in the woods is better than being at the beck and call of someone who can't even answer a simple question."

"Believe it or not, we're just as out of the loop as you are most of the time." Bunny snorted, then added, "You wanna complain about Manny, the right person to talk to is actually Jack. Three hundred years and he heard not so much as a peep from the Man in the Moon."

"And he's a Guardian?"

"Believe me, I didn't want him to be. He didn't want to be. But something changed in him, and here he is." Then Bunny rolled his eyes and grunted. "With the Nightmare King hanging off him."

"Don't remind me. I think I'm scarred."

"But seriously. Would you consider sticking around? I stuck with you all that time."

"Did you?" Her gaze was melancholy, and he felt a pang of guilt staring back at her.

"I should have."

They continued staring at each other. Something seemed to click in her head, and the sadness was replaced with minor irritation. Bunny prepared to get punched in the face as she raised her clenched fists at him and said, "I hate you, you fluffy bastard."

His ears shot upright. "What?!" Before he could react, she grabbed the fur on his shoulders and pulled him toward her. He'd had no idea what to expect, but he certainly hadn't expected Sera to be kissing him. Warmth surged through him as the reality of the kiss sank in and his arms wrapped around her instinctually. Her grip on his coat loosened as her hands slid up his neck to the sides of his face. Ignoring the pain from the gash, he pulled her flush up against him and eliminated the distance between them. When they finally stopped to breathe, eyes still closed and still holding onto one another, Bunny said, "You have a funny way of showing it."

"Well, I do. I hate you. Making me have feelings for you."

"No one makes you do anything, Sera. Don't even try to blame me."

He opened his eyes just enough to see her smiling despite herself. They stayed like that for a moment, him watching her while her eyes remained closed. When she finally did open her eyes and look up at him, she said, "Pitch should've killed us by now."

"No, he should've killed me by now."

"At least this time I get to call him a hypocrite if he finds out and says anything."

"That does not mean I won't die."

"Doesn't mean you will either." She started wiping her mouth with her sleeve. "I forgot how much hair is involved when kissing you."

"See, now that's just rude. You think I can help that I'm covered in fur?" This only made her laugh as she continued wiping the hair from her face. "It's not that funny!"

"Yes it is."

"No, it's not! You and North, finding joy in my plight. What's wrong with the both of you?" She paid him no heed and just continued laughing. Bunny sighed and rolled his eyes, ears flattening. "I think I can move now. Wanna get going?"

"Awww, so soon?" she asked through laughs.

"You're the devil."

"Devil's daughter, to be accurate."

"You're killing me," he whispered before kissing her again.

Breaks

Pitch awoke from a series of pleasant dreams to the even more pleasant feeling of Jack Frost's cold body against his. Purring to himself, he buried his nose in the Guardian's hair and inhaled the scent of winter. He'd stopped counting the times he'd told himself that he could never grow tired of waking up to this. His arms tightened around the boy as he positioned himself closer to Jack's chill.

"Pitch, you're crushing me," Jack mumbled tiredly. Pitch's head was still so groggy from sleep that he hadn't realized he was almost completely on top of Jack, who was lying on his stomach with his arms framing his face as pillows. Pitch smiled at the boy's sleeping position of choice. Well, he doubted he'd chosen this position. More than likely, Pitch had inadvertently forced him into it.

He probably shouldn't be smiling at how vulnerable Jack was to him at the moment. He probably shouldn't be thinking about it. But the burn on his leg felt great and he had his precious Jack with him. And Jack trusted him and he trusted Jack. The notion was almost foreign to him.

And the skin behind Jack's ear looked so delicious after such an excellent nap.

Pitch would forever blame his actions on his being only half-awake at the time. For now, he just wanted one small sampling of Jack's flesh.

Jack came fully awake at the feeling of Pitch's tongue behind one of his ears. He shivered at first, biting his lip to quell the moan that was ready to escape his lips. When he was done gasping from the contact, he turned his head to glare at the Nightmare King. Jack whispered, "Really?"

"What?" Pitch said absently.

"You do realize we're not alone, don't you?" Jack struggled to keep his voice even and quiet, but now Pitch was shifting on top of him, positioning his groin suggestively against Jack's rump. "Could you calm down a bit?"

"We're not alone?" Pitch asked.

Jack heard the playfulness in the Boogeyman's voice and sighed. Gazing out at the sleeping Guardians, he whispered back, "No, we're not alone."

"Well," Pitch muttered before his hand snuck over Jack's mouth, "you better keep quiet then."

Jack mouthed against his hand, "I'm gonna kill you," but Pitch paid little attention. If anything, it made the Boogeyman hum with excitement as he thrust against Jack's clothed ass. Jack unleashed an unabashed groan at the sensation, but soon felt his cheeks redden as he glanced over at the others. This was most definitely not how he wanted them to see him this early in the morning. Jack gasped again as Pitch's other hand reached down to cup his growing hardness. He mouthed the Nightmare King's name against his palm, but this only resulted in a short chuckle and a tightening grip on his member. Pitch thrust again and Jack's eyes rolled into the back of his head at the thought of Pitch shoving himself into him. He groaned without even trying to muffle it this time, reacting enthusiastically to Pitch's palm on his crotch. He moaned again as Pitch squeezed his—.

"Whatever the two of you are doing, don't do it. No one wants to see that," Sera said from a good distance above them.

Both Jack and Pitch went completely stiff at that. Jack was certain that his cheeks had never been redder as they pulled apart and assessed their sleeping area. Jack was glad that they were partially covered by a bush of some sort, considering how intimate Pitch had been getting with him. At that thought, he turned and glared at Pitch. Pitch looked more distraught over the fact that his daughter had been the one to say something. Anyone else and the Nightmare King would've simply shrugged off the look Jack was giving him.

"What are you two rabbits or something?" Bunny muttered from the side. A soft chuckle sounded from the canopy. "Don't even—."

"You said it. You have only yourself to blame."

Despite the good humor, Jack's face only got redder as he pulled his hood up and tucked himself further into the underbrush, out of sight of the others. He glared out at the now awakening Guardians, ignoring the Boogeyman at his side. For once, Pitch was just as embarrassed as he was.

And to think the morning had started off so well.

Tooth and Bunny checked their injuries before they decided whether they were comfortable moving or not. Though her wing bore what may very well be permanent scars, the twit could still fly. That was enough to brighten her morning. The kangaroo's gash had healed considerably, and merely stung after its treatment. Pitch's burn had, of course, almost disappeared due to the rest he'd been forced to take. The morning would've been amazing had he not been interrupted. The very thought of it made him almost ill again. Anyone else. Had anyone else called him and Jack out, he would've been fine. But no. His luck was only so good.

Mother Nature laid out her idea for what was to happen while reapplying medicine to everyone's bigger wounds just in case. "Our best chance at defeating him will be catching him by surprise. If we can't do that, the Guardians could distract him long enough for me to open up a chasm under him." She sighed before continuing with, "I'll need you," she looked at Pitch, "to use your shadows to keep him in the chasm long enough for me to close it on him. You," she gestured to Jack, "can keep using your ice to mute his flames. You saved our arses with that last time."

"He won't survive this, will he?" the twit asked. Sera shook her head. Pitch could see the sadness in his daughter, though she concealed it well. One never truly lost feeling for anything that had come close to being a family member, even when it threatened that person. Despite everything, he ached for her.

"What happens to us? As soon as the ground starts splitting, that is?" the kangaroo asked, cutting through their thoughts.

"How would you and your tunnels fair getting everyone to safety? Will a quake affect them?"

"What about flying?" North asked.

"I'd go with that, but not everyone can fly and it would be easier to open up a tunnel and slide to safety. Does that seem reasonable, Bunny?" Seraphina asked again.

"It shouldn't be a problem. It would take a lot to collapse my tunnels." His nose twitched and his ears stood on alert. "It sounds like you'll be left behind."

"If everything goes accordingly, I won't. There's always a chance that things won't work out in my favor." She put away her materials. "Rest assured that no element can truly kill me."

"But Pillan can," Pitch pointed out.

She closed her eyes forlornly, not making eye contact. "I don't think he can bring himself to do it."

"You're putting a lot of weight on what you think he can't do," he argued.

"Well, what choice do I have? We can't let him go free." With that, the conversation ended.

After check-ups, they got back on their feet again. The group moved in a divided formation through the woods towards where Mother Nature thought Pillan had landed. They moved in pairs for the most part: the bird with the Cossack, the rabbit with Jack, Pitch with Seraphina, and Sanderson on his own. The gap between the Sandman and the others wasn't quite as large, but he reassured them that he could handle trekking through the rainforest on his own. He had dreamsand after all. It still puzzled them as to how his sand had not put Pillan to sleep during the flight. Seraphina guessed that he'd built up immunity to it over time just as he'd built up an insane amount of pain tolerance.

Seraphina and Pitch were silent for most of the walk. The silence between them was uncomfortable at best, but Pitch had a chance to actually speak to her with no one really listening in on them for the first time since she'd given him her advice. The trouble was how to begin to speak to his daughter. It still stunned him that they were working together after so many years.

It seemed only yesterday that she was pulling him from the wreckage of the Great War. The notion didn't seem completely unrealistic. What were a few centuries to an immortal?

"Thank you," he started simply. He felt her tense up at the offer.

"For what?" she asked hesitantly.

"Your words. You . . . were right. I still have a lot to learn when it comes to trust."

She didn't look at him or respond for a moment, but he could feel her curiosity mounting in place of the tension. "I still can't believe you listened."

"Did you expect me to lose my temper?" He found himself being pinned by her gimlet stare. "Well, I did."

"Didn't seem to work out too unfavorably."

"The bottom-line is that you were right. I didn't realize it at the time, but your advice was exactly what I needed."

There was a long pause as he felt her confusion stirring, mixing with the awkwardness of his admittance. She broke the silence with, "I've never heard you say I was right twice in one day."

"You and I haven't exactly been communicating. You'd likely be just as surprised at the things I've said this past year."

"He's really mellowed you out, hasn't he?" Her wariness was abating, which made Pitch relax slightly. The fact that she was speaking with him nearly had him smiling.

However, he refuted, "I wouldn't say that. If anything, I've been more violent since he entered the picture."

"Which is probably why you're here," she observed.

He nodded. Another pause interceded their conversation, leaving room for tension to rekindle. Pitch, more than ever, did not want that. He also didn't want to admit that he'd been wrong, but he'd had to do that a lot lately. What was one more apology? It could save someone. "I am sorry."

"Okay, what are you up to?" Seraphina eyed him suspiciously, folding her arms as they continued walking.

"What, an apology warrants suspicion? Should I be up to something?"

"I don't know, should you?"

"Seraphina—."

"Sera."

He sighed. "Sera. I truly am sorry. I shouldn't have hurt you so. I should've trusted you. Moreover, I should've told you these things much, much sooner. I knew how to find you. I was foolish for not seeking you out, and I was foolish to think that you would come back on your own. You got your hardheadedness honest, that's for sure." He half expected her to interrupt him, but she didn't. She just watched with a guarded stare. So much like him. "You've done nothing to deserve my mistrust." He looked up, reminded of something suddenly. "Save for shoot an arrow at my head."

"Wasn't it you who said that if I wanted to hit something, I would've? I was merely proving your point."

He smirked at that. "Still, that was close." He exhaled through his nose, coming up with what to say next. "You can go on hating me. I'll understand. But despite what I said long ago, you have never stopped being my daughter. Even if you leave after this is through, you will continue to be my daughter."

Their footfalls seemed louder once he finished, the tension remaining steady as Sera's confusion was replaced by frustration. That seemed right. She had about the same reaction to these sorts of situations as he did. Neither was ever willing to give up a grudge. Not without just cause. The silence continued as they proceeded, and Pitch began to feel strangely satisfied for having spoken up. It was odd, this trusting business. About as odd as the concept of love.

He got distracted by the thought. Someone loved him. Jack loved him. He hadn't realized he was smiling until Sera was giving him yet another suspicious look. He set his thoughts aside as he wiped the smile from his face. "Dear Manny, what has that boy done to you?"

"I think you're exaggerating."

"You never smiled." She reminisced, stopping him before he interrupted. "Not like that, anyway. You smiled, but only when something . . . not pleasant came to your mind."

"You made me smile. That's pleasant enough, now."

He caught her smirk before she tried to hide it. "Someone might think you know something you shouldn't, you walking around smiling like that."

Her suspiciousness caught his attention again. He squinted at her, then said, "Is there something I don't know that I should?"

"No." She spoke entirely too quickly, making him squint again. He watched her longer, waiting for one of her tells to give her away. It wasn't long before she started raking her hand through her hair.

"You're hiding something."

"You're reading too much into my distrust." Her voice was even. No other tells showed. Just the one had tipped him off.

"Is there something I should be suspecting you of?"

"No! Stop acting like my father!" she snapped, raking her hand through her tangled black mane again. It was then that he caught a glimpse of a particular shade of pink that her orchids did not match. He continued staring, trying to figure out what he'd seen when she turned and glared at him. His brow furrowed and he looked ahead. When she thought she'd successfully deterred his attention, she continued walking. The tension in her limbs was high again, but eventually her guard was down.

He took his chance and used the shadows to pull her hair back. She jumped, both coming to a stop as she moved to hide what it was Pitch had sought. But it was too late. She shouted a series of curses before it fully sunk in that there was an aster growing at the nape of her neck. A sour taste reached his tongue as a pit formed in his stomach. He had about the same reaction to her fear as he did to Jack's, and she was rampant with fear due to his discovery. Though it had sunk in what he had found, he still felt completely numb. "Nothing to hide, indeed."

"What the hell—?"

"Why would you have that?"

"What do you care?"

His rage began mounting as he watched her try to play it off. "That is the signature of the rabbit. Why is it in your hair?"

She folded her arms defensively. "You're going to get mad because I'm friends with a Guardian? Really?"

"Friends don't give each other gifts like—."

"I still have this!" she retorted, pointing to the black dagger on her calf.

"You're my child! That is different! Why did he—?"

"We were friends—."

"—give you that?"

"—and you would've killed him."

They were shouting, now. "Friends don't give things like that! I won't kill him now—!"

"Why do I not believe—?"

"He'll survive if you tell me—."

"You don't wanna—!"

"—why you have that!"

"What in Manny's name is going on here?" Pitch hadn't realized the Guardians had approached them until the Cossack had spoken. Usually, he only had eyes for one Guardian. At the moment, that particular Guardian was not the subject of his attention.

Instead he glared angrily at the rabbit, his shout fueled by his rage. "Explain yourself!"

"Aw crikee . . .," the kangaroo's ears flattened against his head as he held his paws up defensively. The guilt on his face was enough to ignite what remained of Pitch's anger, and he could feel the shadows starting to roil around him.

"This isn't necessary—," Sera began.

"Yes it is!" His eyes never left the rabbit, who started backing up as Pitch advanced on him. "I don't care if you are the last of your kind! If you've tried to repopulate with me daughter, you'll be extinct!"

"Pitch! Calm it down!" Jack set his staff off to the side, stepping between the Boogeyman and his prey. "Now is not a good ti—umf!"

Jack was cut off by Pitch's hand grabbing the boy's face and shoving him so that Jack was standing behind him. "You—."

"STOP!" Sera shouted, taking Jack's place between him and his target. "Listen to Jack! Now is not the time for this. We can have this out later."

Just then, an unearthly screech cut through their conversation. As the group reoriented themselves, Pitch looked up to see the plague spirits swooping in on them. He could hear the monkey men leaping through the forest towards them.

Good. Something he can take his anger out on.

"Next time that happens, mate," Bunny shouted to Jack as he pulled his boomerangs free and the winter spirit ran for his staff, "hit me over the head and kill me. It'll be quicker than what he has planned."

Jack had no time to nod or even acknowledge Bunny's request. He immediately started flinging bolts at the oncoming enemy. He shuddered at the sight of the monkey men, but refused to let them get the better of him before he'd even engaged them in combat. He really didn't want the taste of blood on his tongue again.

He got a rhythm down, shooting icicles from his crook at the flying targets and leaving sheets of ice where the monkeys would slip on them. As more monkey men appeared, though, he began to feel himself losing control of his fear. His shoulders sagged as he began to doubt his abilities.

Meanwhile, Rin hadn't said anything. Jack couldn't even hear his hum.

He glimpsed how the others were doing as he ran through them and leapt onto the wind. Pitch was having entirely too much fun laying waste to his foes. Swords flashed, whips cracked, and Jack was entirely too distracted by his shaking hands to land a perfect blow on the monkey man jumping from a branch onto him. Jack cried out, unable to hold in his panic as he crashed to the ground face first and the air was knocked out of him. His staff left his hand upon impact. The weight of the monkey man on top of him made him hysterical as he tried crawling from beneath the creature. His whole being shook when the beast grabbed his forearms, breathing and making strange noises against his neck. Jack couldn't even bring himself to scream as he glanced around desperately for his staff. He thought he'd seen it when the beast squeezed his forearms and suddenly Jack was whimpering. He couldn't keep his eyes open and he couldn't even think about his staff. There was only the pressure on his arms and the hot breath against his neck as the monkey man pinning him prepared to rip into his neck.

"JACK!" he barely heard Pitch scream as the monkey man was torn off of him and then, in turn, torn apart by the Nightmare King's shadows. Jack covered his eyes with his now free forearms, unable to watch the bloodshed. When he was certain it was over, he looked up to see Pitch defending him. Locating his staff, he reached for it and tried to get back on his feet again. He was shaking too horribly. He could hardly keep his staff in hand. He was not cut out for warfare. Looking at the others, they seemed out of place in it. But they were handling it.

He wasn't.

"I can't do this, Rin," he muttered.

He'd never been so relieved to hear Rin's humming rekindle. He asked almost inaudibly, "Then what are you waiting for?"

"I give you permission, just please—."

Jack didn't have time to finish before Rin possessed him for the third time. Rin hadn't bothered telling him that this was going to be the last. He stared down at the staff in his now paler hands, running a tongue over the now sharp teeth. Running greedy fingers over the wood, he grasped it in both hands and broke the crook over his knee. When the action was complete, he felt Jack's influence completely disappear as what was left of the blue in the hoodie faded completely to black. Rin's grin widened as he thought of the winter spirit.

Rin dropped the pieces of the crook and ran headlong into the battle, muttering, "Sweet dreams, Jackie!" You needed the staff. I never did. Silly Jack Frost. What made you think I was ever going to leave without a fight?

Fissures

"It was a trap. Nidhogg knew we were coming to finish him," Sera growled, her hands shaking from the battle. She glared at Pitch, who wasn't looking at her. "We probably could've slipped under his army's radar if we hadn't been arguing."

"Unfortunately, I can't deny that," he responded distractedly as his brow creased. He picked up two sticks, which had been lying under the remains of a plague spirit. She recognized them before his eyes widened. "Jack!" he cried.

"Jack's gone, precious Boogeyman." That was Jack's voice, but that was definitely not Jack speaking. Everyone stopped moving as a black-haired, gold-eyed version of Jack Frost stepped among then, fresh blood running over rows of sharp teeth and down his chin. He wiped the blood on his hands off on the now completely black hoodie as he continued speaking, "Well, not really gone. Shall we say he's asleep? That's what happens when you break the thing that gives someone even the slightest power over you." Sera stared at Pitch, and realized that this was the first time she'd ever seen him shivering from fear. She shuddered as she heard the bastardization of Jack Frost laugh at the Nightmare King's state. The laugh was a chilling noise, one that Sera thought might rival Pitch's evil laughter at times. "Look who's scared now!" The creature turned toward Sera. "I had no intention of leaving Jack's body. You know," he held up a reprimanding finger as he stared at the others, "I'm a bit hurt that he would still consider that after all I've done for him. Wait," he glared up at the sky, thinking. Then his eyes widened, revealing the black scleras a little more as he stared at them again. "No, I'm not hurt at all. I'm mad as hell! I mean, he wouldn't be alive without me."

"We were going to give you a new body, moron. He wanted you to live!" Sera snarled. Somehow, the idea that this little snot could make Pitch shake in terror pissed her off. She risked another glance at Pitch, who was holding the pieces of Jack's crook to his chest and staring dumbly at the ground.

"Yeah, leave his body and risk you lot coming after me? Really! Awesome idea!" He turned his attention on Pitch, opening his arms and flashing a bloody, sharp grin that was the stuff of nightmares. "Does someone need a hug?"

"Let him go," Pitch croaked out, his voice sounding completely lost. He looked up, his gaze pleading as he said, "Please, Rin. Let him go."

Rin snorted, then tsked. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Nightmare Man."

"You little SHIT!" Bunny cried, throwing a boomerang at Rin. A cold, icy shadow rose up at Rin's command and deflected the weapon. Bunny threw the other, but that was also deflected. Both were lost in the woods, and Bunny was left defenseless.

"You're annoying," Rin muttered, his lips barely concealing his fangs. Then they spread into that terrifying grin again. "Let's play!"

North and Tooth raised their swords defensively as Rin readied a series of dark, frosted arrows and started firing. Sandy sliced through the arrows with his whips seamlessly, but the onslaught was short-lived as Rin abruptly crumpled to the ground. His limbs suddenly weighed more than the rest of his body. The frost dissolved as his arms folded across his chest seemingly against his will and he rested on his knees. He growled as he resisted his own movements. Sera glanced over at Pitch, who looked incredibly focused. It took everyone a moment to realize he was controlling Rin. North advanced, ready to attack, when Sera stepped forward. Pitch was too focused to defend the boy right now. North looked confused by her interference. "Sera—."

"Realize you'll hurt Jack as well," was all she needed to say. He stopped, lowering his swords. The other Guardians followed suit as Sera turned back to watch how Pitch handled Rin.

"Let. Jack. Go," Pitch growled as he continued holding Rin in position with his influence.

Rin chuckled, still able to speak. "No can do, Nightmare Man."

"You can, and you will." Pitch's voice deepened warningly.

"Even if I did, he wouldn't be able to fix his little twig. He'll be too weak!"

"He'll be strong enough when you're gone," Pitch snarled, dropping the pieces and stepping closer to Rin.

Rin only laughed at Pitch. "You gonna exorcise me, Nightmare Man? Now? You couldn't do it before, when Jack was strong enough to take it. You might kill him, you know!"

"Crawl back to whatever dark recess you've taken up residence in and let. Jack. GO!"

"I cheated my way to the forefront, fair and square! I'm not giving up his body!"

"LET HIM GO!"

Rin squinted, flashing his sharp teeth as he whispered, "No."

In a flurry of movement, Pitch had threaded his fingers through Rin's hair while his other hand gripped his jaw. The Nightmare King locked eyes with the Fearling. "Then I'll make you."

Rin's eyes widened into perfect circles as Pitch invaded his head, the boy's body shaking involuntarily as inhuman squeaks escaped Rin's throat which was now tightly closed off by Pitch's influence. Sera and the Guardians could see him fighting Pitch, but Pitch didn't let up. Rin shook violently, but Pitch held his head in place. Tears welled in Rin's eyes as he continued to struggle. Sera didn't know how much longer Rin could fight Pitch, and let out a relieved gasp as soon as black hair and scleras started graying to white. The yellow irises faded to blue as his skin started to regain its normal pallor. The last things to return to normal were his teeth, which shortened and dulled as they ceased to be rows of fangs. As soon as the transformation ended, Pitch let go of the boy's head and Jack went completely limp. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he started falling. Pitch caught his shoulders and laid him gently on the ground, searching frantically for signs of life.

Only then did the others move forward. As she neared, Sera saw that Pitch was shaking again as he checked for a pulse, breathing, anything that indicated Jack was alright. The closer she got, the more audible his quiet pleas became. She had no time to register what he was exactly begging for before she grabbed his hands and forced him to look at her. A single tear rested on his cheek as his panicked expression met her calm one. When she had him as still as he was going to get, she turned her focus to Jack. She placed a hand on his chest and exhaled, feeling for his life force with her powers. It was hard to locate, especially given that Jack Frost was essentially a reanimated corpse. Manny, you really know how to pick them, she thought.

She was both surprised and relieved when she found it, and began coaxing it to strengthen. It struggled, but obeyed her command. Because his life depended completely on his relationship with frozen water, he needed ice. The closest form of ice his body began to absorb was the water in the ground. She watched as her coaxing him to live started drying the ground around them. As soon as his life force was strong enough, she heard Jack gasp awake. He didn't open his eyes. He just gasped and coughed, as if he'd been revived after drowning.

"Jack?" Pitch asked as the boy's coughing tapered off and Sera leaned back. Pitch touched the boy's face while his other hand grasped one of Jack's.

Jack's hand tightened around Pitch's weakly. "I'm sorry," the boy breathed out softly.

"You're such a fool," Pitch uttered, pulling Jack into a firm yet unrestricting embrace.

Sera watched as the others took turns asking if Jack was alright. She felt drained from using her magic, but realized that she didn't mind even though she really needed all the strength she could get when facing Nidhogg. Though it still baffled her that she couldn't stand to see Pitch so upset, she didn't have it in her to steel herself against the feeling. It was still so hard looking at him, and his apologies seemed absolutely unreal. But despite all the grudges, she couldn't handle seeing him that afraid.

"Jack won't be able to fight," Sera told Pitch as the boy rested against him.

Jack stirred. He was able to move, but he lacked the vibrancy he'd had previously. His energy and appearance seemed dulled by the absence of his staff. "I want to fight."

"You can't use your ice, and you no longer have Rin as a fallback. Your ice was your best weapon against Nidhogg anyway. He'll fry you like this," Sera argued.

"I can still do something," Jack remarked. "I'm not going to just sit and watch you all get hurt."

Pitch cut in, "Jack, you're practically defenseless—."

"So give me a weapon. Give me a task." He gestured to both of them. "You both have tasks. The Guardians have tasks. Opening a chasm, keeping the dragon trapped, getting us the hell outta here, give me something. If I can't keep him distracted like the others—."

"You could keep him grounded," Sera stopped him. Jack looked at her gladly, a spark of his energy returning at the idea.

Pitch didn't share his excitement. "Could you please listen to me and not endanger yourself?" he begged.

Jack stared indignantly at him. "I can do this. I'm not immobile, and I'm still very fast. You'll be surprised to see me run." Jack turned to Sera. "How am I going to do this?"

Sera drew her leg up to her chest and removed the black dagger and its sheath from her calf. Handing it to him, she explained, "This is what we used to cut his wings in the first place. It's the strongest weapon I have, and I'll find a way to cut you if you lose it." Jack actually hesitated to take it from her. "He heals about as fast as one of us on our best days, so a broken wing is nothing to him. Cut his wings, and he won't be able to force himself off the ground. Got it?" Jack nodded, attaching the blade to his upper left arm. "Get creative if you have to. Just make sure he doesn't escape."

"Jack, don't do this," Pitch asked one last time.

"It's my job. I have to." After Sera told him to gather his strength for the battle, she walked away to reinforce in the Guardians what their jobs were. As she did so, he inspected the black blade. It was smooth, almost unearthly. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. "What is it?"

"It was a weapon used by my armies, during the Great War. It came from the Earth's center. It was powerful against the Guardians mainly because it had never seen the sun or moonlight until I wielded it. I gave it to her, in case she ever needed a weapon as strong." He paused, staring at it almost happily. "I never thought she'd keep it."

"Well, I'll be sure not to lose it then." He holstered the knife, then nestled against Pitch's side and sighed. "The sooner we deal with Pillan, the sooner we get rid of Rin."

"That is true." Something about Pitch's voice sounded odd, though. He almost seemed distant. Was that fear? Worry?

"Something wrong?" Jack asked. Pitch shook his head. Jack huffed, annoyed at Pitch's silence.

Pitch responded to the annoyed sound with, "Just be safe."

"As safe as I can grounding a dragon. I should be more worried about you."

It was Pitch's turn to huff. "If I end up having to stay behind with Sera, I want you to still go with the others."

"You think I'm going to try and stay behind with you?" Pitch's expression was gimlet. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Probably? Only probably?"

"I'm not gonna tell you you're all right. You'll either get mad or it'll go to your head." When Jack had successfully gotten Pitch to grin, he considered his job done. Once he saw the smirk crawl across the Boogeyman's lips, he felt like he could take a few moments to rest.

Bunny really didn't want to climb all the way up to the branch where his boomerang was dangling. He'd already found the other, but this one was causing him problems. His strong desire not to climb up had left him staring at the thing for nearly five minutes, trying to figure out how best to get it down without jeopardizing himself. He was so focused on what he was doing that he hadn't noticed the shadows surrounding him darkening.

"Rabbit," came a familiar, dark voice.

"Crikee," Bunny grumbled, a chill running up his spine as he turned slowly to face the Nightmare King. And there was no Jack to hit him hard upside the head to save him the pain, either. "Pitch?"

"I'm not going to even broach the issue of the rather inappropriate gift from you that Sera keeps hidden. In fact, I'm quite sure if I enter into that discussion with you I will kill you. Unfortunately, I told Sera I wouldn't." The Nightmare King's voice was flat, which only terrified Bunny more.

"So, what's this about then?" the rabbit asked after a distinct pause.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to watch over Jack."

Bunny's ears twitched as his shoulders thrust back defensively. "We were planning on doing that anyway."

"But you are the one transporting us out of danger. I'm getting a feeling that if Sera ends up staying behind, I will have to stay with her." Pitch's expression went from blank to displaying a touch of sadness. "I fear Jack's loyalty to me, and I've already proven incapable of protecting him from all dangers."

Bunny wanted to agree to that, but he couldn't find the words or the heart to. In fact, he found that he couldn't even make a clever remark at Pitch, a sarcastic retort seeming a bit too harsh even for his enemy. It didn't feel right to agree or disagree, despite who he was talking to. "Look," he started to say without thinking, his ears flattening, "I'll get him out when things get hairy. He'll fight, but I can handle him."

The relief on Pitch's face struck him harder than he thought it would. "I am in your debt."

"I'll remember you said that," Bunny uttered. Then he pointed to his boomerang. "In the meantime, could you knock that down here? As entertaining as it would be for you to see me fall out of a tree, I don't think I have the strength." With the wave of his hand, Pitch used a shadow to dislodge the boomerang. It fell, landing in Bunny's hands. Pitch almost looked bored at having performed such a menial task. "Appreciate it."

"Just remember to protect him."

"Guardian. It's what I do." Bunny then thought about something. "You don't do too bad with him yourself."

"You're the last individual I expected to hear that from."

"What a coincidence. I had the same thought."

It was twilight when the Guardians, Sera, and Pitch reassembled and resumed their trek towards Pillan. Seeing as he knew they were coming, they didn't bother moving in a formation geared to surprise. Instead, they entered the clearing where he lay in a line, expecting to meet him head-on.

Part of them expected to be disappointed. In fact, they'd wondered if he would even remain in the spot where he'd crash-landed. He very well may have attempted to hide from them. But he didn't. He was there with a bent wing, a strip of disrupted earth leading to the spot where he stood with his head bowed low enough to stare at them on their eye level. Members of the group shuddered at the sheer size of him once more, but held their weapons aloft all the same. With Jack's staff in pieces, North had secured it on his sleigh before sending it back to the North Pole. Jack looked strange bearing a knife as his weapon instead.

Pillan's peeved expression met Sera's slightly stoic one. They had a moment where they simply stared at one another without speaking. Pillan's face softened just a bit before it hardened from anger. "Mother Gaia, you sadden me."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said. She almost sounded genuine.

"I didn't want to have to harm you."

"You're threatening my world. Did you think I was going to let you get away with it?"

"I wanted to create a world with you. Why do you choose those who betrayed you over the one you betrayed?"

Sera seemed struck by the words of the one she'd raised as a child. Her lip quivered for a moment, her eyes shining with tears. Her state didn't seem sensible until she spoke, "Goodbye, Typhon."

At the mere mention of his preferred name, Pillan snapped. He unleashed a belt of flames from his mouth, forcing them all to dodge fire. He whipped his head around as the stream continued, setting the trees surrounding them ablaze, trapping them in this final circle. The Guardians plus two could see a legion of plague spirits forming behind Pillan as he moved towards them, roaring furiously as he charged. The shreds of pain from Sera's farewell in his voice died as he advanced.

The group rose to meet the challenge.

Everything Ends

Fire blazed all around them, a sheen of sweat appearing on all of their faces. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Bunny down a handful of chocolates before charging into the fight. North's and Tooth's swords glinted in the flames as she soared upwards at the plague spirits and he followed the rabbit. Sandy followed Tooth on a cloud as Jack, North, and Bunny ran forward at the dragon. Sera and Pitch flanked them, Pitch prepping his shadows as he summoned his own army to meet the plague spirits. Jack had never been so thrilled to see Nightmares galloping across the skies. Jack caught sight of Sera stopping, and saw her hands moving in a strange pattern as she began to focus. He guessed she was preparing her magic for her task.

Focusing on his own task, he ran to the side as Pillan readied another round of flames. After dodging the burst, he searched for a way onto the dragon's back to his wings. He couldn't very well fly up. He was so used to leaping onto the wind that when it didn't respond to him, he had initially started to panic. A solution came to him in the form of a Nightmare galloping up beside him. It slowed just enough for him to realize its intentions. Grinning, he threaded his fingers through its mane and swung onto its back while running, clinging to its neck as it lifted off again. It nickered, speeding along the streamlined body of the enemy. Jack searched for a good place to jump off, a place where he won't readily slide off the dragon's sleek back. It was hard to see past the layer of smoke from the flames, but Jack managed. Remembering his task, he figured the best place to land was actually the wing. So when the Nightmare flew him back along the other side of the dragon, he inhaled quickly and jumped onto the appendage that wasn't already broken. He'd hoped he'd timed it well enough that he would land on the joint where a single claw protruded, a claw that could potentially be used as a hook. Unfortunately, Jack had not timed it quite as well as he'd wanted and wound up dangling on the wrong side of the limb. He did land on the joint, but the lower half of his body was dangling above the ground rather than being supported by the leathery skin that was Pillan's wing.

Pillan roared, signaling to Jack that he knew what the Guardian was up to. Jack coughed through the foul smell of the forest burning and stifled his panic. He started to use the momentum of Pillan's movement to swing himself into the position he wanted. As soon as he had maneuvered himself onto the wing, a burst of flames licked the area where his legs were. His heart hammered at the closeness of the blast, and he held his position long enough to feel reassured that Bunny and North had regained Pillan's attention. Once he was balanced on the joint and steady enough, he reached for the knife. In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of a plague spirit screeching and diving for him. He fought to remove the weapon from its sheath in time, but found he didn't need to. The Nightmare had lingered long enough to protect him as he completed his task. Smiling wildly, he pulled the blade free, angled it, then stabbed at the part of the dragon's wing that met at the joint. Pillan roared again as he attempted to close the wing on Jack. The movement proved too painful even for the dragon as he instead started raising the wing and letting it fall over and over again. Using the strength he had, Jack released the claw at the joint with his one hand and grasped the handle. Using Pillan's movement against him, Jack used gravity to his advantage and held onto the knife. The knife was lodged in the skin enough that the combined movements of the dragon and Jack's weight began tearing a hole in the wing. The longer he held on and kept the knife in place, the bigger the hole got and the further down the wing the tear spread. The skin on the wing was strong, so it would take time to truly sabotage it. Jack's strategy seemed to be working for now, provided he could both hold on and keep the dagger lodged in the wing.

The chocolate Bunny had consumed gave him an absurd amount of strength as well as four extra arms to wield weapons with. North's laughter as they kept the dragon occupied only egged Bunny on as he threw egg bombs at the dragon's eyes. They were able to dodge the flames well enough, discovering that the dragon had an increasingly hard time directing flames at them while they hid under his belly. They were fine as long as they could avoid his feet. Being so low to the ground, they managed to find some reprieve from the smoke.

Sandy and Tooth were polishing off enemies left and right, the remains of the plague spirits falling faster than they could react. The additional help from the Nightmares had made their job easy. They watched the others work from above when they found gaps in the attacks, reassured that Jack wasn't causing himself further harm, North wasn't rolling around in his mirth too much to defend himself, and Bunny hadn't wound up outside of his comfort zone just yet. Pitch seemed at home in the chaos and Sera looked downright calm as she worked her magic, calling forth the earth's strength. Through the smoke, they could also see the flames Pillan had spurt start to spread outwards into the forest, taking down tall, old trees and causing the jungle life to flee, doing more damage than they could hope to stop. Their group would be completely trapped without Bunny.

Pitch didn't have near as much trouble with the smoke as the others. He was at home in the darkness it provided. With his Nightmares fighting for him, Pitch focused on gathering as many shadows as he was willing to command. Once he had them at the ready, and North and the rabbit were no longer in the way, he cast a dark series of binds under Pillan that tangled his feet and caused him to stumble to a halt. When the dragon landed on his side, Pitch feared that he'd inadvertently caused Jack to get crushed under Pillan. When he saw a white-haired boy roll out of the dragon's wing unharmed, knife still in hand, Pitch sighed and continued tying Pillan down with his shadows. He bound the head first. Then the legs and tail. He was working on various points along the back when he felt the dragon truly begin to struggle against his handiwork. He could feel the strain against his shadows as the last set fell into place. The strain began draining him as he focused hard on keeping them taut. He certainly hoped Sera didn't have much longer to do her work. He wasn't sure how long he could hold this.

Sera felt the ground start to give before they heard the rumble. The crack started at her feet, driving its way towards Pillan. She opened her eyes, feeling the crack in the earth as though it were forming in her gut. She gasped at the weight of her work, watching the fissure open up and start to swallow the dragon. When he realized what her intentions were, it was not anger that ran across his face. No, it was terror. He was terrified to be trapped in the earth again. Pitch's binds held him in place though he struggled against his doom. He roared, belting flames in panic, unwilling to sink back into the earth in which he'd been imprisoned for so long. Tears ran from  
Sera's eyes at the sight of that fear, despite the fact that she knew he wasn't going to survive the entrapment this time.

As the fissure opened wider, Jack stumbled his way to Pitch. He coughed more as he moved, the heat affecting him a lot more than he cared to admit. While the others moved naturally, he felt sweat pouring from his cold body and could hardly breathe. The earth shaking brought him to his knees many times, and he missed the wind and snow more than ever. He made his way to Pitch, who stood protectively over him as the dragon slipped into the crack in the world. Pitch's shadows dragged Pillan down, and Jack could see Pitch growing weaker from the pull on his abilities. Eventually the only parts of Pillan not in the trench Sera had created were his head and one of his clawed hands. This was about the time Jack witnessed the truly remarkable extent of Mother Nature's abilities: the fissure in the earth began closing up again.

At this, Bunny opened the portal to his Warren and started ushering people to it. Pitch and Jack moved slowly towards the tunnel, unsteady on their feet and still focused on keeping the dragon in the fissure. Tooth and Sandy dove for their exit, North following shortly after. Bunny beckoned them onward, but Jack couldn't leave Pitch. The Nightmare King looked so completely drained by the time he was comfortable loosing the binds he'd created for the dragon that Jack had started leading him by the arm, afraid he might fall. Jack stumbled, still trying to hurry Pitch to the exit when Pillan roared and stretched his free hand outward.

To their horror, he managed to grab Sera up in his fist. "If I go, you go with me! You will not leave me alone again, Gaia!" the dragon cried. Jack panicked at the dragon's words and the sight of Sera struggling in his clawed hand. She opened her mouth to scream, but either the breath was being squeezed out of her or the rumble of the earth drowned out the noise. Meanwhile, the crack was closing and Pillan was sinking ever faster. Jack prepared to run for her, but Pitch caught him by the shoulder.

"Go with the Guardians!" he shouted over the rumbling.

"We can't—!"

"I'll save her!" Pitch's words were barely coherent. The edge and terror in the Nightmare King's voice and face made Jack even more reluctant to obey.

Despite the heat and sweat and weakness in his body, Jack resolved not to by stifling a cough and squinting at his Boogeyman. "I'm not leaving you!" Before he could say anything else, Pitch pulled him into a tight hug. Jack gasped at the contact, and found himself being consumed with dread. "Pitch, don't—."

"I love you, Jack Frost," were the last words Pitch breathed into his ear as he slipped the knife from the sheath on Jack's arm.

"Don't do this, Pitch!" But Pitch had already braced his hands against Jack's shoulders. "Pitch!" The Nightmare King shoved Jack backwards into Bunny's open arms, and suddenly he was falling down a grassy tunnel. "NO!" He felt everything inside of him sink like lead as the opening of the tunnel closed and he lost sight of Pitch Black.

Once the tunnel closed, Pitch ran to his daughter. He gripped the knife in his hand as if it were the only thing that could save her. It just might be. Fear brewed inside him as he leapt over the cracks and kept his balance despite the shudders of the earth. His breathing was just as irregular as his heartbeat and everything inside of him felt like it was going to explode if he didn't get to Sera in time. The distance between him and the giant green fist she was sealed in felt like it kept expanding, and his panic kept rising as he felt like he was getting slower and slower.

When Pitch finally did reach the fist of the dragon, he sank the knife deep into one of its claws, trying his best to force it open. He could almost feel Sera's breath being forced out of her by the tightness of Pillan's grip. "Hold on, Sera!" he screamed, digging the knife deeper. He heard Pillan's bellow as he was being dragged down into the fissure. The clawed hand began sliding with the rest of him as the roars became muffled by the rumbling. Pitch held onto the hand, determined to free Sera or go down trying. The dragon's end came to pass as he sank, a sudden pop echoing briefly with the rumble as the life was snapped out of the dragon and he breathed his last. The knowledge that they'd accomplished their goal visibly shook Pitch's daughter. Sera seemed more in pain from the sound of his fate than from the knowledge that she was still trapped in Pillan's death grip.

However, the grip on her did loosen ever so slightly. He left the knife lodged in the dragon's digit as he grabbed for Sera's hands. He was relieved to feel her latching onto him through her tears. His powers were drained from restraining Pillan, but he summoned them all the same to further widen the hand and free Sera. The shadows were weak, but she slipped free anyway, gasping for air and crumpling on top of Pitch as the last of Pillan disappeared into the earth and the crack started sealing itself closed. When Pitch was able to stand, he got on his feet and tried pulling his daughter onto hers. He started glancing around for a way out of the fiery circle they were ensnared in. He breathed shallowly watching the results of his daughter's work and the dragon's end. Pillan's demise had sent nearly all the plague spirits fleeing. All but one.

And that one had sent a spear straight through Pitch's abdomen.

"DADDY!" Sera screamed as he fell to his knees before collapsing beside his daughter.

Jack landed among the Guardians and immediately started looking for ways to leave the Warren on foot. He was surprised that Bunny hadn't tried to restrain him with his six (six!) arms.

"I need to go back!" he shouted, pacing frantically.

"That is not good thinking, Jack. Pitch wanted you here," North told him.

"I don't care if he wanted me here! I need to go back!" Jack argued. He clutched at his chest as a fit of coughs racked him. "I can't believe I left him."

"It's what he wanted, mate," Bunny tried to reassure him. But it was hard listening to the steroid (or chocolate, rather)-induced voice of the kangaroo.

"Jack—."

"What?!" he snapped at Tooth, frustrated.

"Your hoodie," she whispered. He saw Sandy pointing at it as well, the Sandman's eyes wide.

Jack looked down at himself, wondering what they were staring at. Before his eyes, the black hoodie began to fade. He grabbed at the cloth, confused by the change. When it started to turn blue again, the realization dawned on him. He yanked up his sleeve, searching for Rin's mark. His breath hitched and his heart stopped as it, too, began to fade. "No." He grabbed at his skin, running his nails over the scars of the attack. The scars that had once been gray were now turning pale. "No!" His hoodie was completely blue now, the skin on his forearm the same color as the rest of him. He grabbed his head, searching for Rin and realizing he wasn't going to find him ever again, realizing that the part of him that had begun to accommodate the Fearling was nothing but an empty space. No, not an empty space. He felt like he had just had an extra layer of skin, a tumor that had been growing on his scalp, removed. He remembered Rin's words, remembered what he'd said would kill him. Suddenly, Jack heard nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing but the need to run back up the tunnel and find evidence that what was happening couldn't possibly be true. "NO!"

"Jack!" He hadn't realized he'd actually started running until he'd hit Bunny's chest. Jack started hitting him, trying to free himself from the rabbit's grip, trying any and everything to find his way up to the surface. "Jack, stop—."

"Please, please, please," Jack said over and over again as he fought Bunny's hold. By the time he was too weak to continue fighting, he wasn't sure what he was begging for. His chest heaved, his throat ached, his heart stilled, and his limbs numbed as he crumpled to the ground, mouthing words that he wasn't sure he remembered the meaning of. He was barely aware of the tears streaming down and freezing on his cheeks. He was even less aware of the arms that held him close, or the words being whispered into his ear. The only words he seemed to hear were Pitch's last. When his tongue finally stilled and he couldn't speak anymore, the heaving turned to sobs and he instead buried his face in the fur on Bunny's chest, creating fists in the rabbit's gray coat. The weight of reality crushed him, but he couldn't say the words. He couldn't tell the Guardians what he knew. They'd likely already figured it out just from looking at him. But he couldn't say it. Not when he was sobbing at the very thought of it.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Bunny uttered as he returned to his normal state, holding the winter spirit in his arms.

He stared up at the other Guardians, who surrounded them both and reached out in an attempt to comfort them. Jack wasn't the only one devastated by this realization. Bunny knew full well that if Pitch hadn't been enough to save her from Pillan . . . .

He squeezed his eyes shut and held the broken boy tighter. Warm water flowed between Bunny's lids, but the tears buried themselves in his fur. Everything inside him came to a grinding halt and suddenly, his body felt like it had become an internal, dry wasteland. The last of the moisture that kept him alive flowed from his eyes. Try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking of the feeling of his paw running over orchids and one aster, tangled in dark hair.

"In the darkness with you"

Sera pulled the spear from her father's gut, wincing at his lack of reaction. Barely a groan could be heard pass through his lips. Though her own abdomen was sore from having been crushed in Nidhogg's hand, she bent over and ripped at the edge of her leather tunic. Using her claws, she tore two long, thick strips of cloth from her outfit and did her best to turn them into a tourniquet. She was more relieved than she had any right to be that he actually cried out when she pulled the strip tight around his waist. After she secured the leather, she kneeled down and hoisted him up on his feet. She whimpered through her own pain, draping her father's arm across her shoulders and buckling under his weight. Using her free hand, she pulled her hatchet free and threw it at the ground. When it embedded in the soil, a den opened up as smoothly as one of Bunny's tunnels. Her eyes watered as she pulled him into the safety of the air pocket she'd created and laid him on his side in the darkness. When he was safe at the back, she reached outside and pulled the hatchet free, cuing the den's entrance to close. They were safely sealed away from Nidhogg's flames, in the dark where Pitch could heal.

"Dad, listen to me," she muttered, speaking to herself more than to him as she fumbled through her herbs for something that could soothe his pain. "You're going to live. You're going to summon your shadows and heal yourself, you got that?" He didn't respond. There were no more groans and no more sighs. She didn't know whether or not he was breathing, but she still pulled her herbs out and prepped them. Abandoning the mortar and pestle, she instead elected to shove the leaves into her mouth and chew. She chewed furiously, her fangs cutting into her gums. She hardly noticed. The taste was bitter, but she hardly noticed. When she spat out the mush she'd created, she began applying it to the entry and exit wounds on Pitch's back and abdomen. Still, no reaction passed through him. She heard nothing. Her heart hammered and she was ready to scream. A line of blood began trickling out of the corner of Pitch's mouth. "Use your powers! For God's sake, live!" Sera did scream when her demands elicited no reaction, reaching for the area on his chest where his heart should be. If Jack's life force was weak, Pitch's was almost nonexistent. She could scarcely find it. He was so near death's door that she wasn't sure she had the energy in her to save him. She didn't care. He couldn't summon his shadows to save himself, so she'd do it for him. Pouring every last drop of her powers into healing him, she began coaxing his life force into motion again. The shadows seethed around them as she felt her body being drained. "I don't care who you live for. I don't care what you live for," she breathed as she worked. "Me. Jack. Revenge against the Guardians. The sound of screaming kids after a night of bad dreams, I don't care! Just. LIVE!"

Sera didn't know whether or not her magic had been enough. She was so drained, she could only just feel her own pain anymore. She couldn't hear the rain begin to fall above ground, or the clap of thunder. She couldn't hear her own heartbeat. She couldn't hear the shadows, which continued to seethe despite the loss of her contact with her father's life force. So when she heard a sharp intake of breath, she didn't know whether it was her drawing her last before passing out from exhaustion or Pitch coming to.

"It's been storming for three days. The flames have died. There's no sign of either of them," Tooth relayed the information her fairies had brought her. While resting up and healing from the final battle, she, North, Bunny, and Sandy had tried catching up on their backlog. Well . . . Bunny really had tried. He spent as much time curled up in his bed of sweet grass as Jack did.

"No sign of plague spirits. The illnesses and disasters they caused have almost completely disappeared or stopped," North spoke. Jamie's and Sophie's mom had recovered beautifully from her illness the day after Pillan's defeat, and the two children had happily gone back home. They, of course, asked about Jack. The Guardians hadn't known how to respond, so Sandy simply came up with the answer that he was in recovery.

North and Tooth sat beside one another, holding each other's hands as they stared at the sleeping forms of Bunny and Jack. Jack hadn't moved from that spot since Bunny had placed him there. They weren't even sure Jack had woken up since . . . .

Whether Pitch was truly dead, they didn't know. They couldn't know until they returned to the scene themselves, and the storm that was raging over the spot was stalling them.

"Do you think he'll be able to face it?" Tooth asked.

North shook his head. "I'm not sure. He may just want to be left alone."

Sandy came up beside them, shaking his head. Using his sand, he told them that the last thing Jack needed was to be left alone. Tooth agreed. "Jack was alone for a long time. He wouldn't want to be alone now."

"Either way, we'll have to wait till the storm settles. We'll see if he's willing to return then." North's hand tightened around Tooth's at that. They looked down, tired and still bruised. Sandy had offered them dreamsand, but they'd refused. Despite their exhaustion, it felt wrong to sleep at a time like this.

Somehow, they'd never thought they'd end up mourning their enemy. In a way, they really weren't. They were mourning the loss for Jack more than anything. And Jack . . . they weren't quite sure how he and Bunny were doing.

Bunny's Warren was too bright for Jack, but being in the darkness would only remind him that there was no one there waiting to catch him unawares. He felt stiff and empty. His eyes, face, and throat still stung from his sobs. His body felt heavy. He didn't want to move at all. He just wanted to go on lying there.

Every now and then his eyes darted to his staff. North had placed it beside him at one point, the crook still in pieces. He didn't have the will to fix it. He didn't have the will to do anything.

Bunny had taken to lying beside him. It made sense. This was his bed after all. But he seemed about as listless as Jack. Somehow, Jack had neglected to recall that he wasn't the only one who'd lost someone important. Though it had only come to their attention hours before the final battle, Jack somehow guessed that Bunny loved Sera.

Though they shared Bunny's resting area, they never touched. They hardly acknowledged each other's presence. Jack liked it that way. The emptiness only seemed to spread when someone touched him. When it spread, it hurt. No one truly knew how painful emptiness could be until they were consumed by it in a split second of sadness. Emptiness tended to lurk behind outcroppings of strong emotions. It waited for the explosive outburst, creeping into the cracks of any individual who simply grew catatonic from feeling too much at once. Jack was now the embodiment of emptiness. On some level, he recognized that Bunny was in a similar situation.

Jack saw the poetry in their predicament. Both had loved what some would call the 'wrong' people. Bunny had been interested in Jack at one point, Jack knew. His jealousy and bitterness over Jack's relationship hadn't simply been rooted in the ongoing combat against fear. Now they were lying together, alone and lost and somber.

For a moment, Jack found his voice again. "Here we are," he whispered. At first, he thought he'd spoken too quietly. That was fine with him. It wasn't like he wanted to talk anyway. He already felt the emptiness encroaching on his vocal chords again, reacting negatively to their use. The soreness in Jack's throat was tolerable at best, but the emptiness made it worse.

"So," Bunny said, "here we are." He'd heard Jack. Jack didn't know whether to feel dread or respite. If he could feel at all, that is. Silence passed between the two of them. Then Bunny spoke again, "If I'd had it my way, this would've been a regular occurrence for us."

Jack didn't look at Bunny. Though he was right in front of him, he didn't look at him. His smirk at the comment was just as hollow as the rest of him, but it felt wrong to ignore the statement. It struck him that Bunny sounded just as empty as he did. Without thinking, Jack said, "It wouldn't have lasted."

Bunny shared his hollow smirk. Jack looked up long enough to realize that. "You're probably right."

The hollowness apparently disrupted Jack's filter, because he found himself saying, "I couldn't compare to her."

Bunny's eyes and ears twitched at the statement. "I apparently couldn't compare to him. So I think we're even."

"Yeah. Even." The conversation ended there and they returned to their silent . . . Jack didn't know if companionship was the right word. These weren't moments of companionship. The only thing they were silently bonding over was sorrow, so he decided that they had returned to their silent sorrow. That seemed right.

Darkness blanketed them as a storm wailed above ground. She awoke, aching and utterly fatigued from her exertion of power.

"Why?" a voice beside her asked.

She almost didn't recognize who she was talking to. "Why what?"

"Why did you drain yourself saving me?"

There was a long pause as she assessed their state of being. Both were injured, lying in a dark den she barely remembered producing. She barely remembered anything that had happened before she'd succumbed to her own weariness. It had even occurred to her that neither of them was alive. They were simply floating in a dark space of oblivion, perhaps reliving their final moments. But the pain she felt indicated they were alive. Either that, or she was alive and hearing voices. Even so, she answered, "Because even when I hated you, you never really stopped being my father."

The storm quieted as they lay recuperating in the dark. The thunder faded when she found his hand and held it. She was reassured when he squeezed her hand, letting her know he was indeed still there and not an apparition.

When the storm stopped, the other Guardians approached Bunny and Jack about returning to the scene of the last battle. Jack lingered longer on his response than Bunny. Jack wasn't sure he was ready to truly realize the end. But he knew he wouldn't forgive himself if he stayed behind.

He managed to find it in himself to stand up. His body still felt heavy and yet empty at the same time, but he was alive. That was more than he could say for Sera and . . . .

He picked up the broken pieces of his staff. Everyone took several steps back as he placed the two ends together. He wanted to shout at them that Rin was dead and that he wasn't coming back just from Jack fixing his crook. But he didn't. He bit his tongue, and tasted blood as he was reminded of Rin's betrayal. On some level, he was sad that the Fearling was dead. On another, he was glad to be rid of him. His body was his, and he didn't have to share it with anyone else. And that brought on more thoughts, memories of days in the darkness. He hadn't realized just how much the darkness had begun to suit him.

And though he could no longer stand it, he still longed for it.

Jack closed his eyes against the pain that the emptiness threatened to feed on. There was no determination in his mending of the staff, no desperation or true desire. He just placed the pieces together and watched the frost reconnect the ends and mend the broken. He felt his physical strength return at the mending of his tool, but the emptiness only seemed to swarm in on him more.

Actually seeing the battlefield again made his stomach tighten and sour. Part of him was thankful for the feeling. It meant he could still feel. But he also found himself cursing it. He was slightly glad for the gray skies. Brightness would only make him long for total darkness, and total darkness only made him feel more vacant. He found himself freezing the saturated ground just to make sure he still had his frost abilities. The others didn't leave him alone. There was always someone with him, watching his reactions and making sure he didn't snap. In his mind, he'd already snapped. All he needed now was confirmation and closure. It felt cold to look at his return that way. But he was Jack Frost. The only good he could do involved the cold.

He spent a lot of time staring at what was left of the rainforest. Burnt corpses of trees lay scattered around the landing strip Pillan had fashioned with his body. The smell of smoke lingered, but the storm that had passed over this section of the woods had almost killed the odor. There was hardly any sign at all that Sera had opened up the earth to swallow a dragon. The only evidence that remained of the battle was the ring of destroyed forest.

But there was no sign of Sera. And no sign of Pitch.

Jack felt a tear attempt to form at the corner of his eye. It froze in place. He blinked, searching for anything to focus on. Anything other than his name. Something had to distract him from the sour pit lying at the bottom of his stomach. Something had to keep him from wrapping his arms around himself and curling up once more.

"It's like your fairies said: no sign at all," North conferred with Tooth.

"Where could they have gone?" Jack heard her whisper back. She was trying to be quiet for his sake, he knew. He listened anyway.

"Down with the beast, I guess," Bunny muttered brokenly. Jack shook his head, closing his eyes against the onslaught of thoughts. It didn't help when he saw Sandy float over to a spot on the field and pick up what Jack recognized as Sera's black dagger. It had been half-buried in the ground. The sight made Jack squeeze his eyes shut again as he unbuckled the dagger's sheath from his upper arm and dropped it on the ground. That was where it belonged: on the ground where its former owners had perished. How apropos. The return had been a lost cause. All Jack had to do was admit what he already knew.

Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, the Boogeyman, was dead.

At least, that was the thought Jack Frost was attempting to accept when something wrapped around his ankles and dragged him down a hole. He screamed shamelessly, rolling down into a dark pit that he hadn't realized he'd been standing in front of. The others called his name as he crashed against a dirt wall. He gasped, and found panic where nothing had been mere moments ago. He shook, the heaviness in his body suddenly gone. When the four elder Guardians loomed in the light above him, he found himself slightly worried about the situation he'd fallen into. "I'm okay," he said, more for himself than for them. He looked around at his situation, searching the dark for something familiar.

"I'm coming in," Bunny said. The rabbit blocked out the light as he entered what Jack determined was a den. How had he not seen it? Could he have been that unfocused? That didn't make any sense.

He was about to call up to Bunny when a hand touched his shoulder. He froze, his body going completely rigid in response to the contact. His breath hitched as the emptiness fought to retake him, tried to convince him that what he was feeling couldn't be real. His heart stopped at the feeling of a warm hand sliding from his shoulder over his chest. No, this couldn't be real. It simply couldn't be. Though the shadows coiled around him, he still remained frozen. Movement might disturb this mirage, and this certainly had to be a mirage. If it was, he didn't want to lose it. He didn't want to be reclaimed by reality.

He hadn't realized his own hand had betrayed his disbelief and dropped his staff, reaching for the palm on his chest. When his cold fingers ran across the familiar warm ones, he released the breath he had been holding in a short gasp. His hand tightened around the warmth, refusing to let go. The hand he was holding tightened in response. "Jack," the owner of the hand spoke softly. The sound of his voice made Jack gasp for air again, a smile fighting its way across his lips as tears flowed freely.

And just like that, the hollowness was gone.

"I'll just leave you two alone," Sera said, crawling past them to meet the kangaroo. They heard what sounded like two people grappling before she grumbled to the rabbit, "Don't smother me. I'm bruised, here." After that, they exited the den.

Pitch grasped Jack's cold hand, reaching up to cup the boy's cheek. He felt frozen tears on his Guardian's face, coupled with a smile that Pitch wished he could see. Still in the recovery process, his night vision wasn't quite up to par. For now, he just grinned thinking about the winter spirit's smile. His chest felt like it was about to cave when Jack's hand covered Pitch's palm. He thought he'd never feel those hands again, and that notion only made him want to pull Jack closer. His whole body ached, yet all he could think about was getting the boy closer. But they were silent and stayed like that for a long while, content just to hold each other's hands while drinking in each other's presence.

"You have no idea," Jack's cracked voice finally broke the silence, "how badly I want to punch you right now."

"Well," Pitch uttered, "thank you for showing restraint. I'm not sure I could retaliate properly."

The boy responded with a brief combination of laughter and crying. "When Rin disappeared, I thought you were dead." Jack sniffled, starting to sound slightly irritated. However, the Nightmare King could also hear the joy overwhelming the winter spirit. "I thought I lost you."

"You almost did," Pitch responded. There was a pause before Jack pulled his hand free of Pitch's. A moment later, Pitch was getting slugged in the shoulder. Though peeved, he was amazed at Jack's accuracy. "Ow! Excuse me!"

"You're not excused. You should've let me stay with you," Jack retorted, his voice breaking. Pitch could feel tears freezing in their tracks as they coursed over Jack's cheeks. The boy moved fast, faster than Pitch was able to follow. One moment Pitch had his hand on Jack's face and in the next, the boy was carefully leaning over him and kissing him hard on the lips. The part of Pitch that was irked at having been punched dissipated, and he found himself savoring the taste of Jack Frost. He threaded his fingers through Jack's hair, his other hand on the side of the boy's neck as they kissed. The tears on Jack's face made Pitch's breath hitch and his heart stop. The knowledge of Jack's pain hurt him, but he had his Guardian now. He wasn't going to let him go. When Jack pulled back, he whispered, "Don't make me leave you again."

"If you insist," Pitch responded.

"I do insist. You bet your ass I insist." With that, Jack's hands clasped the sides of Pitch's face and they were kissing again. Despite the pain and the ache, Pitch loved it. He loved every minute of having his Jack touching him and holding him and reassuring both of them that this was real. They weren't imagining it. They were both very much alive.

They didn't stop until North called into the den, "Everything alright down there?"

Instead of getting annoyed like Pitch, Jack chuckled at the interruption. He called back, "Yeah, I'm fine. He's still incapacitated, so I'll be staying here for a while. Meet up with you as soon as I can."

"I am not incapacitated," Pitch protested.

"Shut up. Yes you are," Jack retorted.

"Says you."

"Damn right, says me."

"I trust that when you're powerful enough, you two can teleport out of here?" Sera asked, drawing their attention back to the surface. "I'd very much like to take my hatchet back."

"Take it," Pitch responded this time. When she pulled the tool from the den, the orifice closed and left the two alone in the dark.

"Alright," Jack said, reaching for his mended staff. Pitch heard frost begin to crackle as the boy lined the walls with patterns, the ice glowing slightly and creating enough light as it responded to Jack's magic. Pitch could see an outline of the boy as he set his staff back down and started to reach for Pitch's torso. "Where are the wounds?"

"Give me your hands," Pitch said. Jack did so, and Pitch placed the boy's palms on the entry wound in his back and the exit wound in his abdomen. "There."

"You were impaled?!" Jack nearly shouted. Now that the den was closed, his voice echoed slightly and hurt Pitch's head.

"I suppose I was," Pitch answered.

"Goddammit, Pitch," Jack grumbled as he layered Pitch's wounds in ice. Pitch sighed gratefully at the relief and numbness that followed. He was at peace until Jack fired, "You didn't even give me the chance to say it back."

Pitch knew exactly what the boy was talking about in spite of his vagueness. "I already knew how you felt," Pitch remarked, exasperated.

"I don't care!" Pitch thought he was about to get punched again, but instead received another kiss. That he wouldn't complain about. It was tender, not hard at all like before. The gentleness made him groan when Jack pulled back again. That changed when the boy murmured, "I love you."

There was a moment where Pitch froze, unsure if he'd actually heard. Somehow, it still struck him hard that Jack actually loved him. Jack loved him. He'd said so aloud. Pitch's grin returned, and he found himself responding with confidence, "I love you too, you fool." He meant it, too. He'd been so afraid to admit it that he'd refrained from telling Jack until he was certain he might not get the opportunity to do so ever again. How could he not mean it?

"You'd better!" was Jack's petulant response.

"Shut up and lie down here with me," Pitch ordered. He wanted to be irritated with the boy, but he couldn't. He was too busy beaming as Jack slid behind him and wrapped his arms around Pitch's chest. The coolness of Jack's body pressing against his back further relaxed the achy Boogeyman.

"How long will it take you to heal?" Jack asked as he settled in around Pitch.

"Maybe a few more days. Definitely no more than a week if I actually get to sleep," he responded. There was a pause before Jack hmphed. "What are you thinking?"

"That we might be able to get back to the way things used to be."

"You mean before the attacks?" Pitch felt Jack nod against his neck. "I suppose so. Does this mean I get to kidnap you for another month?"

"Winter is coming. I need to start icing the roads in some countries."

"The way you phrase that doesn't seem very Guardian-like."

"Well, what do you plan on doing, Nightmare King?"

"What I do best, of course." They both smiled at the idea of normalcy. Well . . . what they had once considered normal, that is.

Of course, things wouldn't be exactly the same. Not for Pitch, anyway. He never liked change. However, the changes that involved Jack Frost tended to be bearable bordering on pleasant. He was willing to say that he had his daughter back because of Jack. He had many things he hadn't thought he'd ever achieve thanks to Jack. He sighed, pulling the boy by the arms and forcing him closer. Jack chuckled, his cool breath chilling the back of Pitch's scalp. The Nightmare King placed a gray hand on one of Jack's pale ones. The boy returned the gesture, twining his fingers through Pitch's. Jack whispered, "For once, I get to protect you."

Pitch's smile widened. "You do that already."

Jack snorted. "You think so?"

"I know so." He pulled Jack's hand to his lips and kissed it. He repeated a little softer, "I know so."

And for the first time, Pitch was willing to admit to himself that he was happy. Not just satisfied, not just content. He had someone he both loved and trusted, who loved and trusted him in return. Pitch Black was happy. With a Guardian, no less. Tightening the hold he had on Jack's hand, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Are we actually going to see you again?" Bunny asked Sera. The others had already returned to the Warren, but he didn't feel right leaving her so quickly.

Sera finished strapping her dagger back in its place before looking up at the gray skies. Then she gazed solemnly at the ruined rainforest. "I have some work to do."

"Some?" he asked. She pinned him with a gimlet stare before letting her grin show.

"Once everything's back in order, I'll try to join the modern world. Good enough answer? You're not gonna stalk me, are you?"

"Don't think Pitch is the only one capable of lurking in the shadows." They both smiled.

They paused as they stared at one another. She said, "I'll see you around, then, rabbit." She got ready to walk away, but found herself stopping. Without warning, she turned and threw her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace, careful to avoid the areas on her torso where she was still incredibly sore. As she held him, she whispered, "I still hate you."

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't," he murmured back. When she pulled away and started walking away, he watched her. His grin widened as he did so.

His aster was showing in her hair, now. And the first butterfly he'd seen in the jungle had landed on her shoulder.

King and Lionheart

"Pitch, really?"

"He started it." Jack groaned, realizing he wasn't going to win this argument with the Nightmare King. "Your first believer decided that the best way to reassure my continued absence in the dreams of children was to tell everyone all they had to do was believe in Jack Frost. So naturally, I decided that those who still didn't believe in you weren't safe from my Nightmares."

"I am not telling Jamie about this. I sure as hell am not telling the other Guardians," Jack said, pointing at the Boogeyman. The Nightmare King smirked from the shadows of his lair triumphantly. "Wipe that grin off your face."

"At least I haven't sent that darling sister of his any bad dreams. North should refrain from gifting her with snow globes. She has no concept of self-preservation."

Jack snorted at that. It had been a few months since Pillan's defeat, and things had actually started to seem normal again. Well, almost. Mother Nature had started visiting every now and then. Jack had watched her skin color change from a variety of greens to a series of yellows, reds, and browns during autumn. When winter finally rolled around, her true skin tone appeared: a fair white that was just a shade livelier than Jack's pallor. Watching Mother Nature was as beautiful as watching the seasons, and the only person who watched her more had to be the kangaroo. She spent more time with Bunny, Jack was sure, but was slowly becoming reacquainted with her father's home.

Another not-so-normal occurrence began shortly after Jamie and Sophie returned to school. Sophie had decided she was going to torment Pitch about as much as she teased Bunny. It had been disturbing for Pitch to find the blonde child wandering his corridors. Meanwhile, it had been hilarious to Jack. When Pitch threatened to send her a Nightmare, neither Sophie nor Jack seemed to believe him. After a while, it seemed the Nightmare King had secretly grown fond of the girl, and the girl was starting to like the 'power' she had over the Boogeyman. Having a believer did Pitch some good.

But Jack wasn't quite sure how to take Pitch's new hobby.

"I actually like his reasoning. Scare them into believing. Some of them are actually smart enough to fear something, which surprises me," Sera stepped up. She now had a group of butterflies flitting about her head, landing on her hair or shoulders every so often. Jack hadn't quite gotten used to that, just as Pitch was still getting used to seeing Bunny's aster behind his daughter's ear.

"Don't encourage him," Jack said, pointing at her this time. She held up her hands in mock surrender.

"Admit it: the idea of rescuing new believers from the tendrils of the Boogeyman appeals to you." Pitch looked entirely too pleased with himself for Jack to condone his behavior, but Jack was done arguing over the subject. Pitch was going to do what he wanted and so was Jack. And so far, Pitch hadn't caused enough trouble with his Nightmares to warrant Guardian interference. Therefore, there was technically nothing to worry about.

"As entertaining as you two are, I've got somewhere to be," Sera interrupted. "A blizzard is calling my name in Connecticut. You should join me when you get the chance, baby Guardian." With that, she tapped her foot twice and a tunnel opened up.

Jack thought it was cool that one of the perks she'd received upon entering a relationship with the kangaroo was unlimited access to his tunnel system. Pitch, however, looked terribly annoyed every time she used it in front of him. That didn't seem to stop her. In fact, it just might encourage her to do it. While most of their problems were resolved, she still antagonized her father in small ways. To save her from Pitch's intense scowls, Jack asked, "Still haven't started flying again?"

"I'll pick it up when I'm ready. After all, it's been hundreds of years. Wouldn't want to start off glued to trees or tripping into villages like someone else we know."

"Okay, who told you that?" Jack asked as she jumped down into the tunnel laughing. His gaze switched from where Sera had once been to Pitch, who had stopped scowling and started smiling like he knew something Jack didn't. "What is with you guys? Is it my turn to be the butt of the jokes? And seriously! How do you know that?"

"Careful research."

"You mean stalking."

"Such rude terminology, yet it means exactly the same thing."

"No, it really doesn't."

"Aww, the Guardian of Fun is no fun at all." Pitch's final jest only made Jack growl and turn his back on the Boogeyman. He sat on the edge of the stone bridge they were standing on, looking across the lair. He folded his arms, feeling very put out by Pitch's antics. He knew the Nightmare King couldn't help what his center was. He lived on fear, after all. He knew that Pitch was actually doing well staying under the Guardians' radar. His strategy wasn't as bad as Jack made it out to be, but it bothered him anyway. Despite all that, he sighed and relaxed as soon as Pitch came to rest his head on top of Jack's. The youngest Guardian leaned back into the Nightmare King's chest, letting his warmth soak into him. They truly sucked at being mad at each other. After a few moments of silence, Pitch took on a more serious tone and whispered, "I want to give you something."

"What's that?" Jack asked skeptically.

The Nightmare King's jaw moved awkwardly as he continued resting his chin on Jack's head and speaking at the same time. "It's actually less of a gift and more of a symbol of my trust. To other immortals, it would be a sign that you're under my protection."

"You're sure you want to give it to me, then? You really don't have to—."

"I am absolutely sure."

Pitch's assurance forced another sigh out of Jack Frost. After a moment of consideration, he answered, "Then I accept." Pitch's warmth left him momentarily as the Boogeyman readied the gift. Jack briefly questioned his decision, but was soon distracted by the feeling of something sliding around his neck. When he felt Pitch clasp the thing into place, he looked down and picked up the necklace now resting around his neck and on his chest. It was a locket, and it was about the size of his palm. Curiosity plucked at him, and he went to open it. He coaxed it open and found a hand drawn portrait inside. It took him mere seconds to recognize the face of the girl staring back at him. He looked up at Pitch. "Seraphina?"

The Nightmare King nodded. "I know you'll keep it safe."

Jack smiled, looking back at the locket before closing it. He let it rest on his chest, tempted to tuck it into his sweater for added security. For now, though, he kept it out. "Thank you."

Jack stood up on the ledge, which gave him some height advantage over Pitch. Turning to face his Boogeyman, he pulled Pitch to him and hugged his neck. Pitch smiled, wrapping his arms around Jack's waist and resting his head on Jack's chest. The Guardian held him there, letting Pitch's warmth flood him once more. He smiled into Pitch's hair, wishing he had something of his own he could give his Boogeyman. Somehow he knew what Pitch would tell him if he voiced his wish.

He already had Jack Frost. All of Jack Frost. What more did he need?

Pitch pulled back just enough to lean his head back and kiss his Jack. He was suddenly, uncharacteristically thrown back to the way in which their relationship had begun: the Nightmare King's lips on Jack Frost's, saving the boy from a bleak end. Ever since he'd saved Jack, he'd had to get used to the additional chill in his lair. Along with a great many other things.

Pitch found the cold pleasant. It was cool in his shadows, so he felt at home with the winter spirit by his side. Jack had been hard-pressed to leave Pitch's side when winter returned. Eventually, he'd become retaken with his duties as the Guardian of Fun. Sometimes Pitch tasted the boy's fear of losing the Boogeyman. Jack's fear still tended to make him ill.

However, he had all but ceased to sense fear in the boy whenever Pitch touched the Guardian's wrists. It helped to know that he'd finally broken Jack's phobia. It made things easier when he wanted to cajole Jack into his bed. Not that he needed much cajoling. Pitch smiled against Jack's lips. Getting the boy in his bed definitely sounded like a good idea at the moment.

"I love you." Pitch's heart sputtered to a halt as the words left his lips involuntarily. He ceased to breathe until he opened his eyes and noticed Jack was looking down at him.

The smile on Jack's face was enough to make him relax and breathe again. "I love you too," the Guardian whispered back seconds after.

They didn't say it often. It was more commonplace for them to tell each other to shut up. But even if they did start saying they loved each other more often, Pitch didn't think his heart would ever stop leaping each time Jack said he loved him back.

Jack Frost had given Pitch Black many things in the past year. The Nightmare King could only wonder what Jack would do with an eternity by his side.

The End


End file.
